


The Spellbound Affair

by Firestar385



Series: The Spellbound Affair 'Verse [1]
Category: Castle
Genre: Case Fic, Child Murder, F/M, Family, Gen, Kid Fic, Minor Character Death, Season/Series 05, Supernatural Elements, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2017-12-15 08:23:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 68
Words: 317,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/847383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firestar385/pseuds/Firestar385
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The murdered girl in the alley is not who she seems.  Detective Beckett and her team learn the hard way that Castle's supernatural theories aren't always so far-fetched when Detectives Ryan and Esposito end up in the same predicament as their victim.</p>
<p>This story has an alternate ending which picks up after Chapter 63.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Friday Morning

**Author's Note:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence. 
> 
> Author’s notes are at the bottom. Please enjoy!

### Chapter One

Detective Kate Beckett hated homicides. Her job was only tolerable in that she more often than not was able to find the killer and bring him or her to justice. It didn’t change the fact that every time she walked up to a new crime scene she found it difficult to swallow and her heart beat a little faster. Finding a woman sprawled out, stained by the red goo that almost always came from the victim, caused brief and personal flashes of memory to distract her for a second, especially if said woman had curled brown hair and a matronly air about herself. The next worst victims were the young ones - teenagers or young adults with their lives brutally cut short - often caught in the crosshairs of a conflict not fully their own. 

But worst of all, more than the murders that made her think of her mother or the lost potential of a Millennial, were the children. 

She hadn’t even made it to the crime scene yet, but she already knew what she would see when she arrived. The medical examiner at the scene had informed her on the phone that their victim was a girl, elementary-school aged. Beckett paused at the line of yellow tape and took a quick, subtle breath before lifting it up so she could duck beneath more easily. 

The girl had onyx colored hair and a dark tan complexion, though her face was ashen in death. The assumingly large caliber bullet had torn her little chest apart and her previously yellow sundress was now black with drying blood. A few feet away was a Hello Kitty backpack, carelessly abandoned by whoever had committed the appalling murder. 

Beckett swallowed to clear her throat before addressing the ME who was kneeling beside the body. “What can you tell me?”

“Young girl, maybe about eight or nine. I’m 99.9% sure that CD is the GSW to the chest. CSI hasn’t found any shell casing yet, but it looks like only one shot was fired.”

“Time of death?”

“The 911 call came in about an hour ago. According to the rather frantic caller, the murder had just occurred.”

“Anything else?”

“Not so far,” said the ME. 

“Thanks.” Beckett forced herself to examine the body more closely herself and then the immediate vicinity. Just as she was about to stand up and move away, a glint of light caught her eye. The reflection had bounced off of the stud earring peeking out from between a couple matted locks of hair. Beckett pulled a pen out of her jacket and carefully brushed aside the hair. Her breath caught in her throat. She had received enough fine jewelry in her life - most of it recently and from one Richard Castle - to recognize a real, many karat diamond. What was a little girl doing wearing jewelry like that? Even the most well-to-do and haughty citizen of their city did not flaunt their wealth that extravagantly. 

Besides the earrings, nothing else seemed overtly abnormal. She pushed herself upright and absently brushed imaginary dirt from the front of her slacks. She glanced about herself, looking for her next course of action. She didn’t see any hysterical parents screaming at the unis to let them through the yellow tape barrier, so she set her sights on her two junior partners and started towards them. 

“Beckett.” Detective Javier Esposito followed his acknowledgement with a brief dip of his chin in greeting. Detective Kevin Ryan silently mimicked the gesture. “What, no Castle today?”

“He was at Columbia, visiting Alexis,” said Beckett. “He’ll be back in town this afternoon. What have you got for me?”

“Nobody actually witnessed the shot being fired,” said Esposito. “The 911 caller was sitting outside at the café around the corner when he heard the shot fired. By the time he turned the corner and stumbled over the body, the perp was gone.”

“Someone actually ran towards a gun shot?” asked Beckett. “Tourist?”

“Worse,” said Esposito. “Newly minted LAPD tourist.”

“I thought the 911 called was frantic on the phone,” said Beckett. “And why is he in New York?”

“ _New_ ly minted,” repeated Esposito. “As in, been on the force for about two weeks. He claims he’s in town for a cousin’s wedding, which is how he managed a vacation so soon after getting his badge. It seemed like a great time to be a hero until he actually saw the body.”

“I remember the first time I saw a real dead body,” said Ryan. “Handled it probably about as well. This has got to be the worst kind of initiation though.” He gestured vaguely in the direction of the body. Beckett knew that both detectives, while single themselves, came from large families and were already blessed with multiple nieces and nephews. In fact, Beckett was probably the only one on their team without extensive experience with children. She frowned, wondering if the little girl behind them resembled any of Esposito’s young relations. 

“No one else saw anything?”

“A number of the diners at the café saw the little girl walking down the street. She crossed in front of the restaurant on her way to 16th. I’m guessing she was headed for Radiant Pines Primary School, which is just a couple blocks north of here,” said Ryan. 

“She was alone?”

“As far as we can tell,” said Esposito. “No parents, no nanny, nobody. I wouldn’t let my kid walk to school without an adult, for obvious reasons.”

“Did anyone see the killer leaving the scene?”

“A resident on the second floor of that building,” Ryan pointed towards one of the stately apartment buildings on the corner, “heard the chain-link fence at the back of the adjacent alley rattle pretty loudly, as if someone was trying to scale it. Unis are following the trail, but we haven’t heard back yet.”

“Alright, I’m going to look around for a few more minutes, and then I’ll meet you back at the precinct.”

“Sure,” said Esposito. He and Ryan started for the Cuban detective’s red Challenger while Beckett stayed where she was, mentally filing all of the new information in her memory. After a quick stroll around the perimeter of the crime scene, she determined that she had gleaned all she could from the area and decided to return to the precinct. 

xXx

The three detectives and the writer were huddled around Ryan’s desk, going over the ten seconds of footage that the youngest detective had managed to lift from a security camera. It showed a man, of average height, weight, and coloring, sprinting by. He was wearing a baseball cap and a large sweatshirt with the hood pulled over his head. While it was a little hot for the ensemble, it did a good job obscuring his face or any other unique traits that would allow the detectives to positively ID him. 

Annoyed at the complete lack of information so far on the case, Beckett instructed Ryan to play the clip again, three times slower than real time. She raised an eyebrow when he looked at her with his most pitiful expression. His expression transformed into a mixture of resignation and irritation. He keyed in the new parameters to the video and they all watched the clip for the fiftieth time, now thirty seconds long instead of ten. Beckett muttered angrily under her breath when nothing new was revealed at the slower speed and ignored Ryan’s mumbled “I told you so.”

“For all intents and purposes, this looks like a successful hit,” said Esposito.

“Who hires a hit on a little girl?”

“Well, there was that case with the dignitary in China whose daughter’s death would have been the catalyst for World War Three and the end of the United States as we know it,” said Castle. 

“Except that so far, our Jane Doe Junior does not appear to be related to anyone, let alone someone with enough political muscle to bring down the country,” said Esposito. “Sick bastard.” He had his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned his hip against the edge of Ryan’s desk, alternating between scowling at the useless video and the universe at large. Beckett understood the feeling. 

The opening double doors of the elevator at the opposite end of the bull pen drew the attention of the team. Lanie Parish, their favorite medical examiner, stepped off. She was wearing her lab coat and was armed with a manila envelope and a determined expression. She strode purposefully towards Ryan’s desk.

“Lanie,” greeted Beckett. 

“Kate.” The ME let a small smile twist its way onto her lips. “Boys.” She pressed a chaste kiss to Esposito’s cheek as she handed the folder to Beckett. “I have ID’d our vic,” she said.

Beckett flipped open the folder, expecting to see the smiling face of a little girl, probably with slightly bucked teeth that were still too young for braces, staring up at her from the glossy print paper-clipped to the front of the folder. She did a double take when her brain finished processing that she was looking at an adult woman with stringy black hair and equally dark shadows under her eyes. 

“Did you grab the wrong folder, Lanie?” Beckett asked, pulling out the picture and holding it up for the ME to see. 

“Nope. That is Serafina Valduerez, age forty-eight and with a rap sheet that’s long enough to prove her age.”

“Are we talking about the same case?” asked Castle. He took the picture from Beckett and eyed it critically. “I thought we were talking about the little girl murdered a few blocks from her school.”

“We are,” said Lanie. Her usual cool persona slipped and she teased her lower lip with her teeth briefly. “I ran the tests three times each. Valduerez is an exact match for fingerprints and DNA. Even the dental records match. That little girl downstairs is Valduerez.”

“I’ve seen her before,” said Ryan. “She’s been busted for possession and intent to distribute multiple times. She’s very much an adult, and there was never a kid with her.”

“I don’t know why or how, just that the tests confirm it,” said Lanie. 

“So what you’re telling us is that… Serafina Valduerez… is a forty-eight year old drug dealer who somehow managed to de-age and is now a little girl?” Castle tried to smother his grin, but was unsuccessful. “Lanie, could this be a Benjamin Button case?”

“No,” said Lanie. She sighed. “I wondered the same thing initially, but first of all, it couldn’t have happened that quickly. She wouldn’t have been able to shed forty years since Kev last saw her using narcotics, and secondly, I checked for that particular disorder and she doesn’t have it.”

“Is there any way this is a mistake?” Beckett asked. She very much wanted this to be a mistake. How could she even begin to investigate a case involving a woman mysteriously changing into a little girl and being murdered because of it?

“I’m sorry, Becks,” said Lanie. “I ran tests on her tissues and even though she has the appearance of a child, even her body claims to be nearly fifty.”

“This is so awesome,” said Castle. “What do you think, Espo… Voodo, witchcraft, an ancient curse?”

“I think you’re crazy, bro. There has to be some logical explanation for this.”

“I can’t wait to hear it,” said Lanie. “All I have are the medical facts and they’re not making any sense to me. I need to get back downstairs. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thank you.” Beckett slipped the picture back into the folder and snapped it shut. 

“What’s next?” asked Castle eagerly. He clapped a hand down on each of Ryan’s and Esposito’s shoulders. “I have a few sources who can lead us to the dark underbelly of magic users. In fact, I might even know a real witch! Shall I start calling in favors?”

“No, don’t be ridiculous, Castle,” said Beckett. “There is no such thing as witchcraft, and certainly not something that could cause a grown woman to turn into a child. What we’re going to do is track down Serafina Valduerez and confirm that she is in fact not our vic. Roach, track down her whereabouts. Castle, wipe that stupid grin off your face. We have real work to do, like tracking down where those expensive diamond earrings came from.” She held out the manila folder to Esposito. When he didn’t take it from her, she looked up questioningly. 

Her two partners were staring at her. Esposito looked peeved and Ryan more surprised than anything. “What?”

“Did you just call us… _Roach_?” Esposito motioned to his partner and himself. “I do not respond to that derivative.”

“Hey,” protested Castle. Esposito gave the writer a look that effectively shut him up and sent him scurrying towards Beckett’s end of the bull pen. 

Beckett rolled her eyes. “Sorry. It’s just more expedient than _Ryan and Esposito_.”

“Never again,” said Esposito. “Or I will burn all of your Nikki Heat books.”

“Then I’ll just borrow Kevin’s.” She smirked as she reached over to pat the younger detective on the cheek. Ryan leaned out of her range after the first pat and just shook his head slowly. “Okay, work now.” Beckett dropped the folder on top of Ryan’s keyboard. She turned and walked towards her own desk, struggling to stifle the grin resulting from her slip. Maybe the frustration with this case was making her silly, but she thought Esposito’s reaction to the name was amusing and cute. 

“Okay, Castle, we need to think of some real theories about how the little girl ended up dead on the street, while appearing to be someone completely different.”

“I’m quite satisfied with my theory that a witch cast a spell on her.”

“I’m not. Come on, Castle. A little girl is dead. What if Alexis had been brutally murdered as a kid? Wouldn’t you want the detective investigating her case to be _serious_ about finding her murderer?”

“Of course.” The writer looked mildly angry as he imagined a little girl with strawberry blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes sprawled on the sidewalk, her favorite My Little Pony t-shirt ruined with blood. “For the record, I am being serious. But, how about this - from what organ did Lanie test the tissue? Maybe she had an organ transplant?”

“I don’t think they use organs from dedicated drug users,” said Beckett. She stuck the end of her pen between her teeth and rolled the idea around in her head. “Espo, let Ryan handle tracking down Valduerez. Figure out which organ Lanie used to determine the victim’s age and see if any of the local hospitals have record of an organ transplant receiver matching our vic’s description.” The Cuban detective nodded and picked up his phone to call down to the morgue. 

“That still doesn’t explain the fingerprints and the DNA,” said Castle. 

“Evidence can be planted,” said Beckett. “You should know - it’s been done to you.”

“Yes, but I saw the date on the prints in Valduerez’s folder. There’s no way that those prints could have been stolen from the girl. They’re over fifteen years old and much too big to have come from a child.”

“There is some logical explanation out there, we just have to find it.”

“Good luck with that,” said Ryan as he walked up to Beckett’s desk. “In the meantime, I tried the phone number listed for Valduerez’s mother. It actually worked and I spoke with her.”

“What did she say? When had she last seen her daughter?”

“About eight months ago,” said Ryan. “When they buried her.”

“What?”

“According to Mrs. Valduerez, her daughter had been living with her for nearly a year when she OD’d and died. Valduerez’s nephew works at the family cemetery and managed to sneak his cousin into the ground without alerting any authorities. Apparently, Serafina was receiving benefit checks from the government and her family didn’t want to lose the free income.”

“Why admit to that now?” asked Castle. “Surely she must know that the checks will stop and they’ll be liable for fraud.”

“Guilt, maybe,” said Ryan. “She sounded tired on the phone, like she was sick of maintaining a pretense.”

“I think we should talk to Mrs. Valduerez in person,” said Beckett. “You in, Castle?”

“Of course.”

“This is actually a two-fer,” said Ryan. “Serafina’s ex-husband’s mother lives three doors down and according to Mrs. Valduerez, she is a strange woman. Javi and I can interview her while you’re speaking with the Valduerez family. They live about an hour north of the city, so we can save on gas.”

“Sounds good,” said Beckett. “Let’s go.”

_to be continued..._


	2. Friday Afternoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence. 
> 
> Author’s notes are at the bottom. Please enjoy!

### Chapter Two

Ninety minutes later, Beckett was ringing the doorbell of an old but well maintained ranch-style house while Castle hovered at her shoulder. While she waited for an answer, she glanced down the road to where her junior partners were being admitted into the home of Nora Bellefonte. Impatiently, she waited for her admission to be granted. 

The door finally opened, revealing a woman in her late sixties. Her hair was nearly all gray, with only a few streaks of wiry black hair mingled in. Her face was deeply set with wrinkles, as if life had been harder than usual for the woman before them. 

“Mrs. Valduerez? My name is Detective Kate Beckett with the NYPD. This is my partner, Richard Castle. I believe you spoke with one of my colleagues a couple hours ago?”

“Oh, yes,” she said. “Please, come in.” She opened the door wider and motioned for them to enter the small house. 

“I’m sorry to drop in on you unannounced, but I have some questions about your daughter, Serafina, that I was hoping you could answer for me.”

“I told the other detective that Serafina passed away eight months ago,” said Mrs. Valduerez. 

“I know,” said Beckett. “Recently, a new case has come up and your daughter was linked to it. Any information that you can tell us about your daughter’s life may help us solve a murder.”

“Serafina had many problems, but she was not a murderer,” said the older woman. She frowned and Beckett thought she looked older yet as the wrinkles set in deeper. 

“Of course not,” said Beckett. “The murder was committed yesterday morning. If Serafina has been dead for almost a year, she could not have committed the murder.” Truthfully, Beckett hadn’t ruled out the younger Valduerez woman as a possible suspect. All she had was a mother’s word that her daughter was dead and that they hadn’t reported it since they needed the social security checks that Serafina was drawing in. However, by playing along with Mrs. Valduerez’s story, the woman might accidently say something incriminating. “Do you mind if we take a seat?”

“Oh, please, sit,” said Mrs. Valduerez. “I will find some refreshments.” She disappeared into the kitchen while Beckett sat down gingerly on the edge of a yellowed couch. Castle wandered about the small living room, peering at the photographs on the wall. One seemed to catch his eye, as he pulled it off the wall and flipped it over. 

“Castle, what are you doing?”

“You’re not going to believe this,” he said. His tone was a mix of awe and vindication. He handed the photograph to Beckett. She took it gingerly and glanced at the faces in the sepia-toned image. Well, it probably wasn’t originally that color, but the photograph had faced with age. In it, a young Hispanic couple smiled widely at the camera, their heads tilted inwards to rest at the temples of a girl who was probably their daughter. The woman could have been Mrs. Valduerez, before the years of raising a drug-addled child had caught up with her. The man was unknown. But the little girl… smiling up at her with the buck-tooth grin Beckett had expected, was their victim. Like Castle, she flipped the frame over to read the back of the photograph. _Julio, Marionne, Serafina Valduerez. 1973_. 

“I’m sure there is an explanation for this,” said Beckett. Her mantra was starting to sound redundant, even to her own ears. What the hell?

“That is a picture from happier times,” said Mrs. Valduerez as she entered the room with a tray. She set the tray on the coffee table between the old couch and equally old wingback chairs. Castle joined Beckett on the couch while Mrs. Valduerez sat in one of the chairs. “Let me see… Sera would have been eight in that picture. It was taken about two years before Julio died in an accident at work.”

“Mrs. Valduerez, did Serafina have a daughter?”

“No,” said the older woman. “The drugs and alcohol… they ruined her body. She couldn’t get pregnant. Even Randy, her husband, couldn’t help them conceive. Long ago I accepted that I would never have grandchildren. Serafina is my only child.”

“What do you mean, Randy couldn’t help them conceive?”

“Randy Bellefonte is a doctor, specializing in fertility. He’s quite successful, but even he couldn’t undo the damage that years of drug abuse had done. In the end, Serafina returned to the drug use in order to cope with her disappointment. Randy eventually divorced her, unable to watch her destroy herself again. I don’t really blame him - he was always too good for her.”

“Does Mr. Bellefonte live around here? I understand that his mother is a neighbor of yours.”

“Yes,” said Mrs. Valduerez. “Well, his mother is a neighbor of mine. Randy lives in the city. He had a falling out with his mother years ago, before he ever met Serafina, and rarely speaks to her. Serafina was close to Nora, however. She claimed that Nora understood her when no one else did. Randy often accused his mother and brother about trying to poison Serafina’s mind with false hope about homeopathic remedies that could fix her and let her have children.”

“Brother?”

“Rayford,” said Mrs. Valduerez. “That boy gave me the creeps sometimes, but he’s been away from home for years now. I don’t think I’ve seen him in nearly five.”

“Is it possible that one of Nora Bellefonte’s homeopathic remedies worked and Serafina managed to become pregnant?” asked Beckett. She ignored Castle’s whispered, “potions.”

“Not that I know of,” said the older woman. “Why?”

“Mrs. Valduerez, this is the murder victim of our homicide case,” said Beckett. She slipped a photograph from her file and set it on the table. The grayed woman picked it up with a shaky hand. 

“ _Dios_ … it is not possible. That is Serafina.” She dropped the photograph back to the table top and cupped her hands over her mouth.

“It’s not Serafina,” said Beckett. “This little girl died yesterday. But she looks very similar to your daughter, which makes me think they might be closely related.”

“No,” said Mrs. Valduerez. She pointed to a smudge on the victim’s lower calf, just above where her frilly ankle socks folded over. “That birthmark is my daughter’s.” Her tenuous hold on her emotions broke and she started to weep softly. Beckett cursed internally. Reaching over, she gently placed her hand on the woman’s forearm and tried to exude comfort. Next to her, Castle merely looked constipated, trying to sort all of the new information into some kind of logical order that wouldn’t get him yelled at for bringing up witchcraft again. 

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Valduerez. Can-?”

“Please,” interrupted the grieving widow. “I cannot answer any more questions right now.” Her shoulders shook tragically. “I will help you as much as I can, but right now I cannot think straight.”

“Of course. Can I get you anything before we leave?”

“No, thank you,” she said. “Just, lock the door behind yourselves.”

Beckett and Castle beat a hasty retreat from the humble house. On the front step, they could see Ryan and Esposito waiting for them at the locked car. Beckett schooled her features into a serious expression, both to help herself focus and to hide her dismay at the way her interview had gone from her partners. While neither of her boys were fooled, at least they decided to leave her alone. “How did your interview go?” she asked as they piled into the car. 

“Didn’t learn much,” said Esposito. “Lady is weird, but she hasn’t seen Serafina since her son’s divorce. Doesn’t know any little girls who live in the City, either.”

“She makes a mean lemonade though,” offered Ryan. 

“She made you lemonade?” asked Castle, looking slightly jealous. “All we got was water.”

“You would have loved her house,” said Esposito. “Dried herbs hanging from the ceiling, all kinds of weird stuff in pickling jars, a black caldron in the hearth…”

“Seriously?”

“No,” said Ryan. He elbowed his partner in the side. 

“Well, no caldron, but she did have a hundred different types of spices and some nasty looking pickle jars.”

“Marionne Valduerez mentioned that Nora Bellefonte made homeopathic remedies,” said Beckett.

“Potions,” said Castle, and this time he didn’t bother to whisper. 

“Not potions, Castle,” said Beckett. She kept her eyes on the road as she navigated through the neighborhood, save for the glare she sent her partner. A muted groan sounded from the backseat. 

“On second thought, maybe her lemonade isn’t so good,” said Ryan. 

“Why, what’s wrong?” asked Beckett. She found Ryan’s reflection in the rearview mirror and noticed that he was slouching uncomfortably against the door. 

“Nothing,” he said. “Just a bit of a stomachache.”

“Espo?”

“I’m fine,” he replied. “Unlike Irish over here, I can hold my lemonade.”

“Shut up,” said Ryan. 

Beckett wondered if Esposito was telling her the truth or just trying to act macho in front of his partner and Castle. He looked a little uncomfortable as well. She decided that he was a big boy and could take care of himself. 

She pulled onto the interstate and easily caught up to the flow of traffic. Castle pestered the boys for more information about Nora Bellefonte, who, according to Castle, had a deliciously voodoo name. Beckett didn’t really agree with that and the mention of magic grated at her nerves. She divided her attention between actually looking at the cars behind her and pretending to do so while checking on her junior partners. Ryan had decided to completely ignore Castle in favor of looking pale and miserable, while Esposito’s responses became a little more snappish. Beckett casually pressed the accelerator down further. 

About ten miles before they reached the edge of the city, still in an area populated more by open fields than closely spaced buildings, Ryan decided that he had had enough. “Fuck, Beckett, pull over.” His already fair complexion was ghostly white and tinged with green. She had the car sitting on the shoulder a minute later. Ryan practically fell out of the car when he pushed his door open and barely made it off the asphalt and into the grass before starting to retch. 

Castle, on the same side of the car as Ryan and shielded from the traffic whipping past by the unmarked cruiser, made it to the detective’s side first. Beckett and Esposito climbed through the car and hurried over to their friends. 

“Shit,” said Beckett. Besides the lemonade, his lunch, and whatever else the Irishman had ingested that day, he was spitting up blood. She fumbled for her cell-phone and dialed 911 blindly. It seemed to take the operator forever to answer, even though in reality, her call was answered after the second ring. “This is NYPD Detective Kate Beckett.” She rattled off her badge number and their location. “I have an officer down, likely poisoned. Please send an emergency response team immediately.”

Castle had one hand on Ryan’s back as he squatted next to the ill detective. Ryan was on his hands and knees, still shuddering from the force of his illness. Beckett waited on the phone with the operator, keeping him informed of Ryan’s condition. She glanced towards the car, making sure they were still safe on the side of the road. Behind her, the sound of retching started again and she turned back with an expression of pity on her face for the youngest of her crew, who had apparently discovered that his stomach was in fact not empty. 

But it wasn’t Ryan. Esposito had joined his partner fully in their shared misery. Beckett mechanically informed the 911 operator that she now had two officers down thanks to the poison that witch - figuratively, not literally - had put in her damned lemonade. 

The sound of sirens in the distance was the most wonderful sound that Beckett could recall hearing in the recent past. Esposito was seated on the edge of the pavement with his elbows resting on his bent knees and his face hidden in shaky hands. Ryan had given up on being any kind of vertical and was curled up on his side with his legs drawn up and arms wrapped protectively around his midsection. His head rested on the outside of Castle’s thigh. The writer had two fingers resting under the detective’s jaw, monitoring his pulse as they waited. Beckett paced next to the car, torn between racing back to the Bellefonte home to arrest the woman herself and letting the unis from the precinct bring her in while Beckett remained with her fallen colleagues. The operator had placed the call for the arrest while still on the line with Beckett and that was the only thing making it bearable to wait helplessly on the side of the road. 

It took only a few minutes for the EMTs to load her partners into their respective ambulances. Beckett and Castle returned to her car and they followed closely behind the emergency vehicles, her own lights flashing as they sped through the city towards the hospital. Unfortunately, they could do nothing but wait once they had arrived at the towering hospital, besides bump into Josh Davidson. 

Beckett pushed down both her feelings of annoyance and satisfaction when Castle wandered away to pout jealously at the bulletin board in the waiting room while she caught up with her ex-boyfriend. He looked good - the past year and a half hadn’t changed him much, except for the flash of regret in his eyes that the two of them hadn’t worked. He was relieved that she was doing so well after her brush with death. She didn’t tell him about the times since then when she had nearly died again. 

“So, what brings you and writer-boy to my neck of the woods?”

“We were interviewing witnesses upstate for a new homicide case when one of them decided to poison Ryan and Esposito with bad lemonade,” Beckett explained. 

“Shit. Have you heard anything yet?” 

“No, but we’ve only been here about fifteen minutes.”

“I’ll see if I can squeeze some information out of a doctor in ICU any more quickly for you,” offered Davidson.

“Thank you,” said Beckett. 

“And tell Mr. Castle that he doesn’t have to be jealous - your feelings for each other were made clear enough to me after you were shot.”

“Thanks.”

Davidson turned as if he was going to leave them, but paused and turned back to her. “Just out of curiosity; was it worth it? Are you two together now?”

“Yes,” admitted Beckett. 

“Good.” She couldn’t tell if he was truly happy about her answer, but it was enough that he would be happy for her, even if he wasn’t entirely happy for himself. He left, promising once more to try to find any news on her partners. Apparently he was unsuccessful. Thirty minutes later, an ICU doctor entered the waiting room and called for Detective Beckett. She and Castle impatiently followed him into a private room.

“Detective Esposito and Detective Ryan are resting comfortably now,” said the doctor.

“Was it poison?” asked Castle. 

“Not exactly. While their symptoms do resemble those from a poisoning, the blood work came back negative for any kind of poison or drug. I suspect they are experiencing a bout of food poisoning.”

“Can you get food poisoning from lemonade?”

“Possibly,” said the doctor. “I’ll keep them here for a few more hours for observation, but they should be free to go home tonight. Plan on them being out of work for a couple days.”

“What about the blood?”

“Sometimes that happens, Mr. Castle,” said the doctor. “Don’t worry, I’m confident your colleagues will be fine. Any other questions?”

“No. I’d like to visit them now, if that’s alright,” said Beckett. 

“Of course. I’ll send a nurse down to escort you to their rooms.” 

“I don’t like that guy,” said Castle once the doctor was out of hearing range. “I think we should get a second opinion.”

“Blood work isn’t that questionable,” said Beckett. “I’ll just be glad to get them out of here. I don’t think any of us are overly fond of hospitals.” The nurse arrived to taken them up one level to the ICU. A peek into the first room showed that Ryan was asleep, so they decided to visit Esposito first. The Cuban detective was sitting up in his bed, picking at the tape that held his IV needle in place. 

“How are you feeling, Espo?” asked Beckett. She wrapped her fingers around his hand and pulled it away from the IV. She didn’t let go right away. 

“Better, physically. Pissed, otherwise. Who randomly poisons people who just come over to ask questions?”

“People who have things to hide from the police,” said Castle. 

“Usually people who have things to hide do just that. They don’t make things worse for themselves by trying to kill a cop.” Esposito squeezed Beckett’s fingers and took a deep breath to calm himself. He still looked a little pale under his dark skin. 

“The doctors don’t think you were actually poisoned,” said Beckett. “They’re saying food poisoning.”

“I’ve suffered through that enough times to know that this is different,” said Esposito. “Whatever that hag put in the lemonade was there intentionally. Where’s Ryan?”

“Two doors down,” said Castle. “Sleeping.”

“They must have him on something stronger than this weak shit,” grumbled Esposito.

“You’re in pain?” Beckett used her free hand to brush the back of her fingers across Esposito’s cheek. He didn’t feel too hot. 

“Everything aches, but it’s not something that a few beers and my couch won’t fix.”

“I doubt you’ll be cleared for drinking beer tonight,” said Beckett. She smiled softly at him. “Rumor has it you’ll be able to go home in a few hours though.”

“Screw that, I’m ready to sign myself out now.”

“Give it a little longer. We still don’t know what we’re up against.”

Esposito pulled his hand out of Beckett’s so he could place it over the one still hovering near his face. His dark eyes were wide and serious as he held her gaze. “Kate, both Ryan and I are fine. If you’re going to abandon us in this god-forsaken hospital, at least track down that bitch and get a reason for our misery.”

“I’ll do better than that.” She stepped away from the bed and gave him another weak smile. “Castle, you ready?”

The writer nodded slowly and offered his own small smile at the bedridden detective. “Yo, Castle,” said Esposito. “If she does turn out to be a witch, burn her at the stake for me, yeah?” Castle’s smile widened and he promised to do just that. He clapped Esposito on the shoulder in parting. Beckett doubted that the writer noticed, but she could see the faint tightening of Esposito’s expression like the contact had pained him. 

“Don’t encourage him,” she scolded. She pushed Castle out of the room and pulled the door shut behind them. Ryan was still sleeping when they looked into his room again. Beckett didn’t want to wake him, especially if he had managed to find a little of the peace that was evading Esposito. She leaned down, her face just inches from Ryan’s, looking for any kind of distress. He seemed fine, just like Esposito had told her. Since she was already so close, she closed the distance to press a feather-light kiss on his forehead before standing up to her full height again. 

Castle had appropriated Ryan’s medical chart and was scanning the chicken scratch that was supposed to imitate handwriting. A chastisement was on the tip of her tongue, but Beckett was curious, too. She was not schooled in medicine, but she had looked at enough medical documents and spent enough time with Lanie to have a working understanding of how to glean information from the papers. She moved to hover at Castle’s side, peeking at the chart as well. 

“It says food poisoning here, too,” said Castle. “We seriously need to get a second opinion.”

“Later,” said Beckett. “Right now, I’m starting to feel a little claustrophobic.” She hated admitting to any kind of weakness, especially in front of Castle. However, being in the hospital for so long, subjected to the sounds and smells that she associated with the assassination attempt, was beginning to wear on her. She needed to do something productive to take her mind off of the past. 

“The unis should have brought in Ms. Bellefonte by now,” said Castle. “Let’s see what she has to say for herself.” Beckett agreed. Castle replaced Ryan’s medical chart and they left him to sleep. As they walked down the hall towards the parking structure, Beckett discreetly slipped her hand into Castle’s. He squeezed her fingers gently and didn’t comment. 

xXx

In the Observation Room, Beckett and Castle stood shoulder to shoulder, watching the old woman wait patiently for her interview to start. A few feet away, Captain Victoria Gates watched as well. “Why would she want to poison two of my best detectives?” Gates asked. 

“That’s what I intend to find out,” said Beckett. 

“If you can get past the fact that she doesn’t look like she could hurt a fly, I would definitely peg her for a poison user,” said Castle. “How else could she actually hurt someone?”

“Looks can be deceiving, Castle,” said Beckett. “I once witnessed a little old lady flip a grown man over her shoulder for trying to steal her purse. Turns out she was actually a black-belt and actively kept in shape. Her strength was hidden under a faded, loose-fitting flower Mumu.”

“I wish I could have seen that,” said Castle. Together, he and Beckett entered the Interrogation Room and took seats opposite Nora Bellefonte. 

“Ms. Bellefonte, do you know why you’re here?” asked Beckett. 

“Does it have to do with poor Serafina?” She folded her hands on the table. The arresting officers had placed her in the Interrogation Room without handcuffing her to the table, likely thinking she was harmless. “The two nice young gentlemen asked me questions about her this afternoon.” Beckett clamped her jaw shut on an angry retort. If they’re so nice, why did you try to poison them?

“What did you tell them?”

“Serafina was married to my younger son, Randy. The poor girl was so lost and regretted so much. When they divorced, she could barely force herself to live any longer.” Ms. Bellefonte wiped at a single clear tear that had formed in the corner of her right eye. “I did what I could for her, but it seems it was not enough.”

“What did you try to do for her?”

“I made her special remedies to fight her addiction to the drugs, which worked for a while. Randy married her after she was clean for about a year. When they couldn’t conceive a child because she is barren, she returned to the drugs. Eventually, Randy divorced her. That boy refused to ever forgive that which he could not understand.” Her words were layered with hurt and disappointment. Ms. Valduerez had spoken fondly of her ex-son-in-law. It was strange that the man’s mother would see him in such a different light. 

“When is the last time you spoke with Randy?”

“Oh, probably five years ago. My older son, Rayford, had a minor brush with the law. Randy showed up to express his displeasure at his brother’s behavior. I told Randy that he had abandoned and betrayed our family. I did not want to see him again.” Ms. Bellefonte dabbed at her eye again and took a deep breath. “He had so much potential, so much ability. Much more than his brother. And he squandered it.”

“Ms. Bellefonte,” said Beckett. “I understand that your son is a leading expert in his field. Why do you say that he squandered his abilities?”

The old woman scoffed. “I don’t believe in that _scientific mumbo-jumbo_. He has _real_ ability, which he refuses to use.”

“I see.” Beckett made a note on her legal pad. 

“Earlier, you said that Serafina is barren,” said Castle. “When was the last time that you saw her?”

“Dear Serafina, let me see.” The old woman’s eyes unfocused as she thought. “Two weeks ago. She comes to see me every six weeks or so. I’ve been helping her work through the issues of her past. Is something wrong with her? I sense a disturbance in her aura.”

Castle and Beckett exchanged a wide eyed look of surprise. Castle had to cover his mouth with his hand to hide his grin of pleasure at Ms. Bellefonte’s claim to sense auras. “Ms. Bellefonte, we spoke with Serafina’s mother this afternoon. She says that Serafina has been dead for eight months. How could you have seen her two weeks ago?”

“Serafina is not dead,” said Ms. Bellefonte. “She is righting the mistakes of her childhood and early adulthood with my help.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Her mother was a great unbeliever as well. Serafina told me that she had fought with her mother and they agreed to never speak to each other again. That was… I guess eight months ago.”

“How is Serafina righting her mistakes?” asked Castle. 

“By re-living her life.”

“Is this Serafina?” Castle stole the victim’s file from Beckett and pulled out the photograph that they had shown Ms. Valduerez earlier. He slapped it on the table in front of Ms. Bellefonte. “Is the disturbance in the force that you’re sensing because Serafina actually is dead?”

“No,” said Ms. Bellefonte with a pained gasped. “Sera… what happened to her?”

“She was murdered yesterday,” said Beckett. “Explain to me how this little girl has the identity of a fifty year old woman.”

“You are not a believer,” said Ms. Bellefonte. Her tone was angry and her glare sent a chill down Beckett’s spine. Then, as suddenly as the rage appeared, it dissipated. Instead of angry or sad, the old woman seemed smug. “But you will be.”

“A believer in what, Ms. Bellefonte?”

“I’ve told you all that I am willing for today,” she said. “It is pointless for me to tell you things that you will refuse to believe.”

Beckett forced herself to not start yelling at the woman. She could no longer see the gentle old lady with soft white hair and faded brown eyes. All she could see was an uncooperative, deranged woman who had tried to hurt two people she cared very much about. “Then tell me this,” she said, her voice barely more than a hiss. “Why did you try to poison the two detectives that came to see you this afternoon?”

“Oh, I didn’t poison them. Admittedly, the initial onset can be rather uncomfortable, but there are no lasting harmful effects.”

“So you admit that you put something into the lemonade that made them violently ill. You purposefully put a toxic substance into the drinks of two NYPD detectives?” Beckett didn’t bother to hide her wrath any more. 

“Of course not,” said Ms. Bellefonte. “It’s not toxic. They’ll be fine. Consider it a gift from me to you, detective.”

“What kind of gift?”

“The ability to see and believe the truth. Now if you don’t mind, I would like to call my son.”

Beckett slammed the case file shut and stormed out of the room, Castle close at her heels. Outside the Interrogation Room, they were met by Captain Gates and one of the other officers who had watched from Observation. “Deep breaths, Detective Beckett,” said Gates. “Calm down.”

“That bitch purposefully did something to Ryan and Esposito,” said Beckett. Castle placed his hands comfortingly on her shoulders. 

“I heard,” said Gates. “We’ll book her right now. She’s not going anywhere. You, on the other hand, need to go home and regroup. The hospital called towards the end of the interview. Detectives Ryan and Esposito are ready to be released. Someone is supposed to monitor them for the next twenty-four hours. Why don’t you go pick them up and the three of you can have a relaxing evening together. The case will still be here in the morning.”

“Four,” said Castle.

“Excuse me?”

“Four of us,” said Castle. “Beckett and I will go get the boys. We can gather at my place, since I have the most room.”

“Fine,” said Gates. “Just go.” Beckett didn’t really want to leave. She wanted to go back into the Interrogation Room and push Ms. Bellefonte until she admitted to everything. She knew though that letting her emotions overrule her judgment would only hurt her chances of finding justice for the murdered little girl and her ill partners. She marched over to her desk to gather her keys.

_to be continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story isn’t really set at any particular time in the series, though I make plenty of references to episodes late in Season Five. It does, however, take place before the events of ‘The Human Factor’ and ‘Watershed.’ In this AU, Jenny O’Malley-Ryan doesn’t exist, mostly because I like her too much to do something tragic to her, but she doesn’t fit in the story.


	3. Friday Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the transformation takes place and Beckett does not handle it well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Three

It was around nine o’clock that night when Beckett started to believe in whatever strange abilities Ms. Bellefonte claimed existed. It was also the time when she started to view her current murder case in a new light, one that she did not like. At nine o’clock, the understandable, logical world that she lived in began to crumble before her eyes. 

She was sitting at one end of Castle’s unfairly comfortable leather couch with her legs extended out to rest on the matching ottoman. She was enjoying a glass of champagne and a new book that Castle had given her with the promise that if she liked Derrick Storm and Nikki Heat, she would definitely like this up and coming mystery solver as well. So far, the writer had been right. She was engrossed in the text, barely even registering the click of Castle’s laptop keyboard as he worked on the next Nikki Heat novel, nor the intermittent trills of Esposito’s phone as he texted with Lanie. 

She reached the end of the chapter and took a short break to sip her champagne and glance at her companions. Castle continued to type, lost in his own little world, while Esposito returned her look when he felt her eyes on him. His face was still paler than usual and he looked tired and achy. She wondered why he didn’t let himself fall asleep. After a few seconds, he dropped her gaze so he could check on his partner’s well-being. Beckett did the same, threading the fingers of her hand not holding the champagne flute through Ryan’s light brown hair. He was stretched out on the couch, laying on his stomach with his head on a pillow in Beckett’s lap. His face was turned away from her body, giving her a clear view only of his profile. She wasn’t sure if he was actually sleeping or just resting. Like Esposito, the youngest detective looked uncomfortable as whatever poison he had ingested continued to work through his system. 

“He awake?” mouthed Beckett silently to Esposito. He had the better view of Ryan’s face. Esposito shrugged. The Hispanic detective leaned back in the chair and dropped his head back, finally letting his eyes slide shut. Beckett hoped he would be able to sleep. She hated having to work cases without her boys and wanted them back in the precinct sooner than later. 

The clock on Castle’s mantle started to chime, emitting nine slow dongs. Castle looked up then, meeting Beckett’s gaze and offering her a fond smile. “Can I get you anything?” he asked. 

“No, thank you.” She was still full from the dinner that Castle had prepared for them after returning from the hospital. His thoughtfulness in making something light enough for the boys to stomach but still filling enough for himself and Beckett made her like him a little bit more, if that was even possible. She was pretty taken with the writer already. 

Castle set aside his laptop and stood, stretching out his stiff limbs. “Espo?”

“’M good.”

“Ryan?”

No response. Beckett brushed her hand across his hair once more, glad that he was oblivious to his current condition for the time being. Castle headed for the kitchen and returned a minute later with his own glass of champagne and a cupcake. He was about to sit down again when Ryan suddenly awoke, shaking and coughing violently. Beckett barely managed to set her flute down without spilling her drink. She tried to wrap her arms around Ryan, to hold him still or offer comfort, she wasn’t sure which, but he pulled away from her to sit by himself on the couch, panting breathlessly as he curled in on himself painfully. 

“Ryan… Kevin, look at me,” ordered Beckett. She reached for him again. He grunted in pain when her hand landed on his shoulder. She pulled it away as if she had been burned. Castle and Esposito crowded around them as well, reaching out towards the Irishman but hesitant to actually touch him. “Kevin, please.” She wasn’t sure what she was begging for. 

“What the _fuck_?” Esposito demanded when his partner started to glow faintly. Ryan’s trembling continued through what Beckett would later refer to as the “transformation.” Before their very eyes, he started to shrink, scaling down steadily. His features morphed, becoming more rounded and less defined, as his body grew smaller. It seemed to take forever, yet happened too fast for Beckett to grasp, to understand what was happening. Three minutes ago she had been seated with her adult partner, worrying about his lingering stomachache. Now, she was staring unbelievingly at a toddler, with lighter blond hair and Ryan’s terrified blue eyes. 

“Oh. My. God.” Castle was the only one with access to his vocal chords, while Beckett and Esposito gaped at their partner. He clasped one of Ryan’s tiny hands in his own and the detective’s splayed fingers barely stretched across the writer’s palm. Ryan transferred his frightened stare from Beckett to Castle. A few seconds later, the shock was too much for him and Ryan fainted, falling backwards onto the soft couch cushions. 

Beckett couldn’t move or think or scream like she wanted to. She didn’t know what to do, how to handle this, how to rationalize what she had just witnessed. As if the universe wanted to give her another chance to figure it out, the drama started again. She felt herself grow faint as Esposito started to shiver and groan painfully.

xXx

“Kate? Wake up, Kate. I know you can hear me.”

Beckett groaned softly and forced her eyes open, despite the pounding headache that had taken up residence behind her eyes. The light was a little too bright for her liking, so she squinted as she tried to focus on the shadowed face hovering over her. 

“That’s my girl. Come on Kate, look at me.” A soft hand gently patted the side of her face. As more of her senses came online, she recognized the strong scent of smelling salts. Her vision started to clear rapidly and even the headache took a step back to let her regain her bearings. 

“Lanie, thank goodness,” she muttered. She raised a hand to her forehead in order to brush a few loose strands of hair from her face. “I was having a horrible dream.”

“Were you dreaming that you found a body that appeared to be an eight year old girl but in actuality was forty-eight years old, and when you went to interview the girl’s mother-in-law, she pulled the same hokum and turned your boys into babies?” Lanie cupped the side of Beckett’s face tenderly. 

“What… how did you know?”

“You’re not dreaming, girlfriend.” Lanie pulled back to give room for Beckett to sit upright and survey her surroundings. She was in Castle’s living room, sitting on his far too comfortable couch. Lanie knelt near her legs, in front of the couch. Castle was pacing at the far side of the room, his cell phone pressed against his ear. Beckett could faintly hear him telling Alexis that everything was fine and he was just busy and couldn’t talk now. He’d call her back in the morning. Next to her, curled up on the overstuffed cushions, were two very young boys who looked way too much like her junior partners. Both slept soundly, wrapped tightly in lap blankets from the chest behind the couch. 

“Gods,” mumbled Beckett. She forced herself to think, not panic. Eventually, she turned to Lanie. “Why are you here?”

Lanie offered her smart phone to Beckett. The conversation she had been having with Esposito was still on the screen. Beckett read the last message Esposito had sent to Lanie before the poison - potion - whatever - had set to work on him. 

**KR just turned into a baby.**

“Normally, I would tell Javi to stop playing around and that his jokes are lame, but based on everything else that has happened in the past two days, I couldn’t just sit around waiting for you to clear up the mystery. So I came over to find you passed out, Castle freaking out, and the boys… well, as boys.”

Beckett glanced at the clock. It was nearing ten o’clock. She’d been out for a long time. “What do we do, Lanie?”

“That’s usually your department, Kate,” said the ME. “I’m at a loss, too. Here’s what I can tell you: I checked out the boys quickly and besides the obvious, they seem to be fine. Nothing appears to have been damaged during the change. Knowing Javi as I do, I can imagine that he’s not going to want everyone knowing what happened to him. That man’s pride will ruin him one day, I swear. So I would suggest keeping them here while you force that old woman to reverse this mess, by whatever means necessary.”

“Okay,” said Beckett. She took a deep breath, then another. “Okay.” It very much wasn’t okay, but for now she just had to pretend that it was. She looked down at her boys, studying their peaceful faces. She was still staring at them when Esposito stirred, waking slowly. 

“What happened?” he asked groggily. 

“Apparently, a witch turned you and Ryan into little kids,” said Castle. His phone was put away, so he wrung his hands nervously to give himself something to do. He came to stand next to the couch. Esposito had to crane his neck back to see the writer’s face. Castle was a good few inches taller than the detective when he was full size. Now, Castle towered over him. 

“How do you feel, sweetie?” asked Lanie. She brushed her hand over his short hair. 

“Surprisingly good,” he replied. He looked over himself warily, carefully inspecting his small hands. He was still in his undershirt, in which he was swimming. The short sleeves practically reached his wrists. “At least, I don’t feel sick anymore. A little pissed, though.”

“Just a little?” Castle quirked an eyebrow. 

“Like I’m gonna explode,” qualified Esposito. Castle nodded in understanding. 

Lanie shook her head before reaching forward to run her hand down Ryan’s back. “Time to wake up, cutie. Nap time is over for now.” The mini detective grudgingly returned to consciousness. Beckett realized that he probably remembered what had happened, based on the haunted look that still remained on his cherub face. He slowly pushed himself into a seated position.

“You okay, Ryan?” asked Beckett. He shook his head slowly, his huge eyes never leaving her face. “I mean, besides being turned into a child, how are you feeling?” He shrugged his tiny shoulders and finally looked away, dropping his chin to his chest and staring at his lap. 

“How old are you, Espo?” asked Castle. He sat on the very edge of the couch cushion, just behind the detective. 

“Thirty-six.” He gave the writer a look that dared him to say anything about his response. Castle swallowed thickly. If anything, Esposito’s Promise of Death looked even more intimidating on the face of a child than it did when he gave it as an adult. 

“From what I can tell, he looks about six,” said Lanie. “Though, clearly he still has all of his mental capacities and his memory.”

“Is there any way to tell for sure?”

“Not that I know of, yet,” said Lanie. “When I ran tests on the girl’s body, everything came back saying she was forty-eight-ish.”

“So, our victim is forty-eight, but looks to be about eight. Espo is thirty-six and appears to be six. It’s almost like the spell just shaves off the first digit of the target’s age.”

“Or it just rewinds development in certain intervals of time,” said Lanie. “My guess would be increments of ten years? Maybe the amount of poison can be adjusted to only remove a certain number of decades.”

“To be fair, I think it’s called a potion, not poison,” said Castle. 

“Not helping, bro,” said Esposito, darkly. 

“So she took four decades from Serafina Valduerez and three each from the boys?”

“Trying to take four off of Ryan and Espo likely would have killed them,” deduced Castle. “So, thirty years would make Ryan…”

“Four,” said Beckett, without really thinking. The Irish detective was noticeably smaller than his partner at the moment. The effect was magnified by the way he was huddled against the back of the couch, now hugging his blanket around himself tightly. She wasn’t prone to physical acts of affection, especially to her partners with whom she tried to maintain a minimally professional relationship. However, watching her youngest colleague struggle to comfort himself tugged at maternal urges she didn’t even know she had. “Come here, Kev,” she said, barely disguising a tremble in her voice. She pulled the toddler into her lap and hugged his small body tightly to her chest. His head rested against her shoulder. She pressed her lips to the top of his head. He still smelled like Detective Ryan - coffee, aftershave, cool linen laundry detergent - but his pale blond hair was feather soft and tickled her nose. 

Lanie grew tired of kneeling next to the couch so she squeezed into the space vacated by Ryan, between Beckett and Esposito. Esposito crossed his little arms over his chest and glared into the middle distance. Beckett was not distracted by his standoffish posture from the fact that he was pressed up against Lanie’s side. Castle settled more comfortably onto the couch as well. He draped one arm over the back of the couch, behind Lanie’s head. He was just able to reach the few strands of Beckett’s hair with his fingertips. 

They sat in silence for nearly ten minutes. Beckett continued to hold Ryan tightly, taking as much comfort in him as she hoped he was finding in her embrace. She found she couldn’t think about the case or her next move concerning how to undo the curse on her partners. Her mind floated on the edge of blissful thoughtlessness, kept anchored only by the steady inhales and exhales disturbing the fabric of her shirt sleeve. 

The tense silence was broken by the sound of a key in the front door. It swung open shortly thereafter, admitting a very familiar older woman with bright red hair. “Richard? Alexis called me. She said she was worried about you.”

“In here, mother.” Castle stood once more and started for the older woman, intercepting her halfway between the door and the living room. “Everything’s fine.”

“You don’t sound so fine.” Martha Rodgers eyed Castle suspiciously. “Here, take my purse. Alexis didn’t mention that you had company.” She dropped her heavy bag in Castle’s arms and continued into the living room. Her expression morphed into one of hesitant amusement as she took in the people gathered on the couch. “Katherine, is there something I should know?”

“They’re not mine, mother,” said Castle. He had ditched her purse on the kitchen bar before returning to the living room. “I can only handle one kid at a time and Alexis is still my little girl.”

Beckett awkwardly rose from the couch. Standing at least made her feel a little more in control of the situation. She still held onto Ryan, which prompted Martha to approach her curiously in order to get a better look at the child’s face. “Martha, you’ve met Lanie Parish before.” Beckett gestured towards the medical examiner, who also rose to her feet. 

“Of course,” said Martha. She smiled warmly at the young woman. Unfortunately, she refused to be long distracted from the most interesting visitors to her son’s loft. “Wherever did you find these children?”

“It’s a long story, mother,” said Castle. He tried to nudge her towards the wing of the loft which housed the bedrooms, but the actress refused to be guided away. 

“Richard, you all look as though you’ve seen ghosts,” said Martha. “Does this have something to do with a case?”

“Yes, it does.” The writer’s mother looked at him expectantly. With a sigh, he capitulated. “Fine, I’ll explain it to you, but you’re not going to believe it. Kate, why don’t you and Lanie put the boys to bed. You can use the guest room.” Beckett was grateful to be able to escape the upcoming conversation. She didn’t want to hear Castle try to logically explain the events of the last eighteen hours. Her brain already felt on the edge of shutting down completely. Hearing someone trying to make sense of what had happened would probably be her undoing. 

Ryan seemed perfectly content to be carried towards the back of the loft, no doubt trying to hide from the truth of their situation as much as she was. Esposito untangled himself from the lap blanket and slid off the couch by himself. Beckett did not allow herself to think about how ridiculous he looked in his adult t-shirt which now fit him like a badly tailored dress. The hem of the shirt hung midway between his ankles and knees and the crew neck had slipped to one side, exposing a bony, tanned shoulder. 

Lanie offered her ex-boyfriend her hand. Esposito reached up to wrapped his hand around her index and middle fingers after a long second of indecision. Together, the four of them walked to the guest room, leaving Castle with the impossible task of outlining the story to his mother. 

Beckett had no idea how Lanie was able to keep her head on straight as she took control of the situation and started ordering the three of them about. “Javier, see if Castle has any spare toiletries stashed away in the dresser. Kate, put Kevin down. I’m sure the boy can walk. Raid Alexis’ room to see if she has any shirts or shorts with drawstrings that might be small enough for them.”

“I’m not wearing any of Alexis’ clothes,” said Esposito. He had only made it about three steps towards the wardrobe when Lanie’s last instruction had caused him to stop short. 

“You’re drowning in that shirt,” stated Lanie. “Aren’t you supposed to be looking for spare toothbrushes?”

Even as an adult, Esposito hadn’t had much luck getting his way with Lanie. He sent her a glare which clearly displayed his displeasure at her bossiness, but resumed his trek towards the wardrobe nonetheless. Beckett reluctantly peeled Ryan off her front and set him down. Her hands hovered at his shoulders worriedly as he wavered unsteadily. He found his balance quickly enough, so she grudgingly backed away. The hysteria that she was barely keeping in her stomach surged painfully again, forcing her to swallow thickly and flee to the relative safety of Alexis’ room. 

Once in the tastefully decorated room - Beckett had always liked the way Alexis skillfully merged her burgeoning womanhood with the comfort of her childhood - the homicide detective let herself break. She sat down on the floor with her back against the foot of the bed and wrapped her arms around her knees. She rocked herself slowly as she wept silently for the death of the world she relied so heavily upon. 

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, but her mind was blissfully blank by the time Castle entered the room. The writer sat down beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He didn’t say anything as she curled into him, pressing her tear-soaked face against his shoulder. Her only coherent thought as his strong fingers carded through her hair was that it wasn’t fair for Castle and Lanie to be handling this so much better than she was. 

“It’s going to be okay,” said Castle after a long while. “It’s not like they died, right?”

“At least that would make sense,” whispered Beckett. She absolutely did not want to lose her partners like that, but death was normal. It was common, expected even. Not this.

“See, I was right about one thing.” Castle pulled his hand from her hair so he could press against the bottom of her chin, tipping her face upwards. “Letting yourself believe in magic could be good for you in the long run.”

“Those weren’t your exact words,” argued Beckett. Later, she would attribute her reaction to a mixture of exhaustion, worry, and lingering hysteria. Right now, all she could think was that Castle’s words were hysterical, so she burst out laughing accordingly. 

“Uh oh, did I break you?” Castle pushed her away so he could grasp both of her shaking shoulders. “Kate?”

“I’m fine… fine. I just… Thank you for being you.”

“I’m not sure what I did, but you’re welcome. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I feel completely turned around and almost numb. I have no idea what to do next. I don’t know how to take care of small children, Castle.”

“You don’t have to. Luckily for you, I have experience in this matter and my first kid turned out fairly well, if I do say so myself.”

“My understanding is that she pretty much raised herself,” said Beckett. “You always tell me that she was born an adult.” She thought about what she had just said for a moment. “Technically, the same could be said about Ryan and Esposito. You’re one lucky son of a gun, you know that?”

“Fate loves me,” said Castle. “Listen, I will take care of the boys while you do what you do best. Solve this murder and bring that wicked witch to justice. Get her to give you an antidote to the potion.”

“I can do that.” Beckett nodded her head to affirm her statement. “First thing in the morning I will interrogate her again. I can also bring in her sons to see if they were aware of their mother’s actions.”

“This must be what Nora meant about her son having abilities. If she’s practicing witchcraft, it’s possible that her sons were brought up learning the dark art, too. Maybe Randy Bellefonte didn’t approve of his mother’s hobbies.”

“You’re right. She seemed pretty adamant that those who didn’t believe in her brand of magic were beneath her notice. She could have disowned Bellefonte when he didn’t follow in the family legacy.” Beckett sat up straighter and wiped the salty tracks from under her eyes. She suspected that her mascara was probably smeared, but it wouldn’t be the first time Castle had seen her looking less than perfectly polished. Sex had a way of disheveling one’s hair and ruining carefully applied makeup… She squashed down those thoughts and forced herself to concentrate on her current case. 

“Well, now we have our first thing in the morning plan. How about tonight’s plan? Lanie said she sent you in here for possible clothes but you never came back.” Castle pushed himself off of the floor and offered a hand to assist Beckett in rising. 

“Do you think Alexis will mind?”

“Nah,” said Castle. “She keeps a box of old clothes in her closet. They’re things that don’t really fit her anymore but she refuses to give up because they’re too nice to throw away. I bet we can find something small enough in there.”

“You know, you can always donate those items to Goodwill.”

“But then what would we ever do if some madwoman turned half of our team into little kids who needed to be clothed?”

“Stop making me laugh,” said Beckett after a brief chuckle. “You’ll make me cry again.” Together they upended the box on the bed and started sorting through the items. Alexis had obviously been a bit more modest than Beckett had been as a teenager, but some of the clothes were cute. Well, they were all cute. And very feminine. Esposito was going to freak. 

Castle managed to come up with an old summer camp tee-shirt and draw-string boy shorts from when Alexis had been in middle school and her hips had been much narrower. Those were set aside for Esposito. The best they could do for Ryan was a plain grey undershirt and cut-off shorts of sweat-pant material. The Irishman was the smallest of the males in the group as an adult. He was absolutely tiny as a toddler. 

Castle tossed the rest of the clothing into the box and deposited it back into the closet. Together, he and Beckett returned to the guest room, where Lanie had finished getting the boys ready for bed, sans the smaller clothes. Lanie made a point to praise Castle and Beckett for finding gender neutral clothes, all while staring down her ex-boyfriend. Esposito was unimpressed.

Leaving the miniature detectives to change in relative privacy, the three full-size adults stepped out into the hall. Lanie dragged her fingers through her dark hair, finally letting a little of her unease at the situation show. It was now going on eleven o’clock. The exhaustion plaguing each of them was readily evident. 

“You should get going, Lanie,” said Castle. “Beckett and I can handle it from here. Thank you for all of your help.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll stop by after work to check on them again. Physically they seem fine, but I don’t see how transforming from an adult into a child can _not_ cause some kind of damage. I’m not a pediatrician. It might be worth taking them to a family doctor just to make sure nothing is wrong.”

“I’ll run it by them in the morning,” said Castle. 

“Good luck. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Javier this angry about anything,” said Lanie. “Poor little Kevin just looks lost.”

“I understand the feeling,” said Beckett. 

“Since when have you started calling Ryan by his first name?” asked Castle. It was more common for the two to hear Lanie refer to her ex by his given name, but they had been intimate for a while. Lanie and Ryan’s relationship had never really evolved beyond boyfriend’s best friend and best friend’s girlfriend. 

“It’s how I’m coping. I guess if I can pretend it’s not really _them_ in there, this whole situation is a little more bearable.” Beckett instantly liked Lanie’s theory and decided to use the tactic herself. If she could separate her partners from the little boys on the other side of the painted door, maybe the world would seem a little less messed up. 

Castle and Beckett walked Lanie to the front door and wished her safe travels back to her apartment. Beckett didn’t see Martha anywhere in the open plan of the loft so she assumed the older woman had retired. Together, she and Castle returned to the guest room, though Castle made a quick detour to his office to retrieve a large safety pin. She knocked briefly before entering the room. Ryan and Esposito - no, Kevin and Javier - were seated next to each other in the middle of the queen sized bed. 

“How are we doing?” Castle’s voice seemed a little loud as it bounced through the room. Beckett realized that her headache was starting to pulse painfully again. The writer strode over to the bed and sat down next to the little blond. Castle pulled up the back of Kevin’s shirt so he could bunch together the excess material of the shorts and hold it in place with the safety pin. 

“I’m ready for this nightmare to be over,” said Javier. “Usually I wake up more quickly than this.”

Castle patted Kevin’s back when he was finished with his temporary tailor job. “Then let’s go to bed. The sooner we sleep, the sooner we can wake up.” He stood up again to give the boys room to lie down at the head of the bed, a few feet away from each other. Castle retrieved an extra pillow from the guest room closet to tuck in next to Kevin, something Beckett never would have thought to do. Truly, she didn’t know if four year olds were big enough to sleep in regular beds, but it better to be safe than sorry. Javier pulled the thin cover up to his chin closed his eyes as if willing himself to sleep as quickly as possible. Beckett moved around to his side of the bed and gently stroked his forehead with her right index finger. 

“Good night, Javi. I promise I’m going to fix this.”

“Thanks, Becks.”

“Hey, Kevin.” Castle leaned down until his face was only about twelve inches from the toddler’s. “I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day. When it’s cold outside, I got the month of May. I guess you’ll say, what can make me feel this way?”

“My girl,” whispered the blond. 

“Good boy.” Castle squeezed his little hand before pushing himself off the bed. He and Beckett met by the door. Castle flipped the light off, leaving the room bathed in darkness. He pulled the door nearly shut behind himself, leaving only a sliver of a gap between the door and its frame. Beckett reached for his hand. 

“The Rolling Stones?”

“That boy hasn’t said one word since the transformation. I wanted to make sure he hadn’t lost his voice,” said Castle.

“Ah.” As she replayed the evening in her mind, she realized that Castle was right. She bothered her lower lip with her teeth as they walked towards the master suite. They went through their own nightly routines, falling into their familiar pattern effortlessly. Beckett cherished the normalcy until she slipped into sleep, ensconced in the circle of Castle’s protective embrace.

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Notes:
> 
> First and most importantly, thank you to everyone who stopped by to read and leave kudos! Please let me know if you’re still enjoying the story. I write for fun but I always want to improve, so constructive criticism is always welcome. All mistakes are my own.
> 
> The reference to the Rolling Stones was taken from ABC’s “The Ryan Report.”


	4. Saturday Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning of the first day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Four

Beckett awoke early the next morning. Her body still felt sore and sluggish, as if she’d had an emotional night and not much sleep afterwards. It didn’t take long for the memories to return. Unfortunately, she was too practical to let herself think for even a minute that it had all been a bad dream. 

Her stirring caused Castle to wake up as well. The writer yawned widely and reached blindly for his alarm clock. He held it above his head so he could see the large red numbers steadily form the digits 06:14. “You don’t have to be in to the office until eight,” he mumbled as she slipped out of the warm bed. 

“I can’t just lay here. I think I might go crazy, if I haven’t already.” 

Castle sat up and rubbed the sleepiness from his face. “Good point.”

“I’ll start a pot of coffee before I jump in the shower,” said Beckett. 

“Go ahead,” said Castle, waving his hands towards the door to the master bathroom. “I’ll make coffee.” Beckett smiled fondly at him as he pushed down the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed. They each disappeared through their own doorways. Beckett wondered if Castle was as curious about what this new day would bring as she was. 

She had never been one for lingering in the bathroom, especially when she had a pressing case to solve. No matter how sorry of a person Serafina Valduerez was appearing to be, she still deserved justice. Whether or not she had a role in what had been done to Beckett’s detective partners, Beckett would find her that justice. Though, she doubted anyone would fault her if she worked on getting her partners returned to adults first. 

With a hint of dampness still clinging to the tip of her ponytail, Beckett emerged from the steamy bathroom, dressed in a power suit that made her feel like she could resolve this situation in no time. She grabbed her purse from the floor where she’d tossed it the night before. She made her way down the hall determinedly, on a mission to get her world back into its perfectly square box. She did pause briefly to peek into the guest room. Javier and Kevin still slept soundly, wrapped around their respective pillows. 

Castle had a homemade latte, including the mandatory pumps of sugar-free vanilla syrup, waiting for her on the kitchen bar. He looked rather rumpled in his housecoat, with his hair mused and features still lax with fatigue. She thought he looked adorable. The only problem with the scene in the kitchen was that her drink was in a ceramic cup instead of a travel mug. 

“You can talk to me for five minutes before you run out the door,” said Castle, correctly interpreting the look on her face. “I’ve gotten to know the boys pretty well over the past four and a half years, but I bet you still know more about them than I do. Anything I should be aware of, today?”

Beckett took the time to think, running through her working knowledge of her partners’ medical histories. “Javier is allergic to strawberries. I don’t think Kevin has any food allergies.”

“My guest room is completely goose down free. Any ticks or triggers that I should avoid?”

“Nothing that you don’t already know about.” She took a sip from her latte. Her brow furrowed as a worrisome thought struck her. “Do you think we should tell their families about what happened?”

“Er, not right away,” said Castle. “Let’s find out what we’re dealing with, first. Maybe you’ll figure out how to change them back today and then no one will be any wiser to what happened besides us.”

“Okay.”

Castle headed out into the living room for a minute to gather a handful of stuff from one of the end tables. When he returned, he had the detectives’ wallets, phones, and police-issued equipment. He flipped open Kevin’s wallet first, taking inventory of the different cards and looking for any other useful information. Besides finding about forty dollars in cash, there was nothing else worthwhile. Javier’s wallet resulted in the same lack of useful information, though Castle did comment that the Cuban would not need the condoms tucked away behind his bank card any time soon. 

Beckett finished her drink and agreed to call Castle if she learned anything promising on their case. They exchanged a brief kiss before she left.

xXx

At the precinct, Beckett took a moment to feel a little lost as she glanced around the bull pen and her eyes landed on the empty seats where her team usually sat. Of course, this wasn’t the first time she’d been the first to arrive or the last to leave, but those times, she’d always known that it wouldn’t be long until the others came in. Facing this case alone was a tad bit daunting.

She mentally scolded herself for feeling minutely relieved when Captain Gates strode towards her desk a short while later. The older woman was also a very early riser and usually was the first to the homicide floor. “How are Detectives Esposito and Ryan doing?”

“Not as well as we’d hoped,” said Beckett. “Castle offered to let them stay at his place again, so I’m flying solo today.”

“Well, send them my best if you talk to either of them later,” said Gates. “What is your plan of attack for today?”

“My biggest concern really is whatever Nora Bellefonte put in that lemonade,” said Beckett. “The… _side effects_ … of the potion - I mean, poison - are pretty ugly.” Apparently another one of the side effects was making her sound like a bumbling idiot when she tried to talk to her superior. She wished that Castle and she had thought to come up with a plausible story for the boys’ condition. “If she has an antidote, I want to track that down.”

“Agreed,” said Gates. “At least find out what was in it, so the lab can come up with something if need be. Do you have any suspects besides Ms. Bellefonte?”

“I want to bring both of her sons in for questioning,” replied Beckett. “I’ll also track down the LAPD officer who called in the murder yesterday to see if time has shaken any more memories free about what happened.”

“Good. Keep me posted on your progress.” Gates returned to her office, leaving Beckett to glare at her watch and debate about whether it was too early to drag a suspect into interrogation or not. Deciding that it might be beneficial to speak with the old woman in private, Beckett headed down to holding. 

Nora Bellefonte was awake when Beckett entered the holding cell area. The detective motioned for the guard on duty to give them some privacy, which the young officer gladly did. As he passed her, Beckett thought she heard him mumbling about adding Red Bull to his coffee. 

“Detective Beckett,” said Bellefonte, once they were alone. “You look haggard, my dear.”

“Thanks to you,” snapped Beckett. She forced herself to take a deep breath and calm down. 

“I know a very simple recipe for tea that does wonders to ease stress and wipe away a sleepless night.”

“When I’m done with you, you’ll never have access to another herb or spice again.”

“Tsk, tsk.” Bellefonte folded her hands together and rested them daintily in her lap. “I have not caused harm to anyone.”

“You turned two NYPD homicide detectives into babies, not to mention your daughter-in-law who ended up murdered.”

Bellefonte smiled wistfully. “I so love children. My own grew up much too quickly and I fear I shall never have grandchildren. Can I see the boys?”

“Over my dead body,” said Beckett. “Is this just some sick game to you? They did nothing to deserve being poisoned like that.”

“I didn’t do it to punish them,” said Bellefonte. “When they showed up at my door, wanting to ask questions about dear Serafina, I thought that they must have been precious children. I only meant to give their loved ones the opportunity to relive those days again, for however briefly the spell worked.”

“How ‘briefly’ does the spell work?”

“It depends.”

“On what?”

“Oh, many things that an unbeliever wouldn’t understand.” Bellefonte sounded irritated now and her faded eyes glinted darkly for a moment. 

“How long was it supposed to last for Serafina?”

“Each time it lasted a little bit longer. At first, she was only young for a month. By now, the spell would have been working up to six weeks on a single dose.” Beckett had hoped worse case for a number on the magnitude of days, not weeks. Her temper rose again sharply. 

“Can you reverse it?”

“Why would I want to?”

“Because I might put in a kinder word for you with the DA if the detectives are cured sooner than later.”

“Your petty legal system does not frighten me,” said Bellefonte. “I am not fettered by your so-called laws.”

“Whether you feel ‘fettered’ by them or not, you are subject to them.”

“I wasn’t aware that using magic to return people to the simple joys of their childhoods was against the law,” said Bellefonte sweetly. Beckett scowled. 

“There may not be a law explicitly against turning adults into little kids, but there are plenty of laws against poisoning, conspiracy, and endangering the health of others, so tell me how to undo your curse.”

“There is no spell to undo it. It is not necessary.”

“It is necessary.” Beckett wanted to kick the door to the cell. The guard returned then, followed by a middle-aged man whose very presence made Beckett’s skin crawl. 

“Rayford! There you are, dearest.” Nora Bellefonte stood and walked to the front of the holding pen so she could grasp the bony fingers that the man had threaded through the mesh. 

“Mama, are you alright?”

“As well as possible, under the circumstances.”

Rayford spun around, focusing his beady black eyes on Beckett. “How dare you lock a prominent woman like my mother in this despicable place?” The man’s onyx-colored hair was plastered to his forehead greasily. His complexion was pale, but unnaturally so, as if he’d been bleaching the natural tan out of his skin. He reminded her of a skeleton covered only in a parchment thin layer of skin. 

“Are you Rayford Bellefonte?” Obviously, but she had to ask for protocol. 

“Yes. Who are you?”

“I’m Detective Beckett. I’m investigating the murder of Serafina Valduerez, your sister-in-law. We have reason to believe that your mother is somehow involved.” Beckett was glad that she wore three inch heels that day. They gave her the ability to look down on the weasel-like man. 

“Whatever reasons you think you have, they’re wrong. Mama is not involved.” Rayford took a threatening step towards her, but Beckett didn’t even flinch. “Let her go, now.”

“No. Mr. Bellefonte, where were you yesterday morning, around eight-thirty?”

“None of your business.” 

“Unless you want to spend the rest of the day in that cell with your mother, you’ll make it my business.” Beckett narrowed her eyes, trying to convey all of her dislike for him through her glare. 

“I was walking my dog.”

“Where?”

“In Central Park.”

“You live in the city?”

“Sure, just like eight million other people.”

“What kind of dog do you have, Mr. Bellefonte?”

“A brown one.”

“You’re not helping yourself here,” said Beckett. “Being a smartass is only making you look guilty and uncooperative.”

“I only came here to check on my mama, who you’ve unjustly incarcerated.” _Whom_ , corrected Beckett silently. “I didn’t come here to cooperate.”

“She poisoned two police officers and now refuses to give me an antidote.”

“If she’d poisoned them, they’d be dead,” snarled Rayford. 

“Rayford, Mama’s hungry. Will you be a dear and fetch me my favorite snack?”

“Of course, Mama. You just sit tight. I’ll get you out of here as soon as possible. They can’t hold you here.”

“No outside food is allowed in holding,” said Beckett. 

“Get out of my way, bitch.”

“Get out of my police station, asshole.”

Beckett wasn’t quick enough to step out of the way of his sudden backhand. The dark pendant ring he was wearing bit into the skin under her right eye. She was able to retaliate before he fully regained his balance. She grabbed his arm and slammed him face first into the mesh of the holding cell. He howled about police brutality. Beckett grabbed a fist full of his oily hair and slammed his head forward again, smashing his face against the bars. The returning guard quickly noticed the commotion and called for backup as he rushed forward to assist Beckett. 

“Rayford Bellefonte, you are under arrest for assaulting a police detective. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you by the state.” The guard helped her handcuff Rayford’s arms behind his back and shove him into the second cell, apart from his mother. Once he was put away, Beckett reached up to gently prod the burning streak across her cheekbone. Her fingers came away clean. Hopefully, it would only bruise. 

Disgusted with the Bellefonte family and unsure if she could contain her anger, Beckett had no choice but to return to her desk on the homicide floor of the precinct. The aura of wrath she was giving off must have been pretty potent. Everyone she passed gave her a wide berth. 

She bit her tongue before shouting out for Ryan to track down the younger Bellefonte brother as she exited the elevator behind her desk. Instead, she glanced around the bull pen, looking for someone else to assist her. An unlucky uni who made the mistake of entering her line of sight at that moment won the task of tracing the fertility doctor and calling him in for an interview. Beckett went into the break room for a cup of coffee and a few minutes to find her composure. 

By the time she emerged, the uniformed officer was still trying to contact Randy Bellefonte. Beckett updated her murder board while she waited impatiently. She didn’t have a photograph of Rayford to add to her suspect column. “Espo-” Once again, she cut herself off. “Shit,” she muttered under her breath. She wrote the name down and made a mental note to acquire a photo soon. 

She passed by the desk where her unwilling assistant was working. He looked up at her with a frightened expression. “Track down the 911 caller from yesterday and ask him to come in for an interview as well,” ordered Beckett. The officer nodded quickly and snatched up his phone. Beckett decided to go down to the morgue.

xXx

“What happened to you, girl?”

Beckett self-consciously touched the injury on her cheek. “Nora Bellefonte’s son is just as deplorable as she is.”

“Let me see that.” Lanie leaned in more closely and hummed sympathetically as she inspected the mark. “Have you put anything on it?”

“No, not yet.”

“Here, try some of this.” Lanie opened a small jar and offered the white cream to her friend. Beckett swiped her finger through the cool balm. She borrowed Lanie’s mirror to apply it. “I hope you arrested his ass.”

“Oh yes, though he might have reason to complain about excessive force.”

“I doubt anyone would buy it,” said Lanie. “I take it things aren’t going so well?”

“The witch refuses to provide a reversal for the curse she put on Javi and Kevin. She thinks she did them a favor. Her son is convinced that she’s unjustly being held, since neither of them have much regard for the law. I haven’t had any luck yet tracking down the second brother.”

“It’s only ten-thirty, Kate. Even as good as you are, you can’t solve a homicide in twenty-six hours.”

“If the whole world can go to hell in that amount of time, I should be able to solve a murder.” She knew she was being childish. Lanie smiled impishly at her. 

“Maybe I can brighten your day a little bit. The results came back on the vic’s clothes. They found traces of gunpowder residue as well as chlorine.”

“She was murdered with a gun, so the residue doesn’t surprise me.”

“It’s not a match,” said Lanie. “Besides, she wasn’t standing close enough to her murderer for the residue from his gun to land on her. In the hours before her death, she fired her own gun.”

“What?”

“Yup.”

“Any idea what kind?”

“Well, no gun was found on the scene, nor any extra ammunition, so I would have no way of knowing for sure. But, I did find an interesting bruise on her right shoulder that showed up post-mortem.” Lanie pulled down the sheet to reveal the girl’s pale face and her upper chest. Beckett wondered once again if Lanie’s nerves were made of steel. The sight of the Y-shaped stitching from the autopsy just looked wrong on the small body. She couldn’t imagine having to be the one to make the incisions.

The bruise was shaped like an oval and encompassed most of the soft area just beside the shoulder joint. Lanie handed Beckett a cut-out that roughly matched the size and shape of the bruise. “That’s a pattern for the butt of your standard Wal-Mart shotgun. If I had to guess, that’s the gun she used prior to her death. The recoil probably knocked her over. I’m surprised it didn’t break her collar bone.”

“Why did someone pretending to be an eight year old have a shotgun and where is it now?”

“Beats me. That’s your job, detective.”

“Thanks Lanie. Even though I have more new questions than answers, at least some progress is being made on this case.”

“You’re welcome, Kate. You should go home for lunch. Check on the boys and Castle. You look like you could use a break.”

“I will,” Beckett promised. She exchanged a smile with her friend and then exited the morgue. She contemplated the new information while she rode up the elevator. It sounded like Serafina Valduerez had committed a violent crime before her death. Eight year olds didn’t carry shotguns around in self defense, nor dispose of them after the fact. Did it have something to do with her drug history?

Beckett made a notation on the murder board about the use of the large gun. Surely enough time had passed that the ex-husband had been found by now. She headed towards the man tracking down her witnesses. Beckett looked at him suspiciously when his face paled upon her arrival. “Did you contact Dr. Bellefonte yet?”

“No,” he replied. “I’ve tried every fertility clinic in the greater New York City metropolitan area and no one knows of him.”

“Did you try clinics in upstate New York? That’s where he’s from.”

“I’ll try that next.”

“Why didn’t you try that _first_?” Beckett snapped. “Start with his home address and work out from there.”

“I just assumed that since he’s supposed to be an expert in his field that he’d work in the City,” said the officer.

“Your job is not to assume anything. You’re supposed to track down my witnesses. Detective Ryan would have had him in the Interrogation Room by now.”

“That’s probably why he’s the detective and I’m not.”

Beckett instantly felt guilty. “Shit. Officer…“ She glanced at his name tag. “Mills, I’m sorry. This isn’t your fault. I appreciate that you’re trying to help me at all. I just… I really need to speak with Dr. Bellefonte.”

“It’s okay,” he replied. “I heard about what that crazy old woman down in holding tried to do to Detectives Esposito and Ryan. I can’t imagine what I’d do in your position. Please know that I am trying my hardest.”

“Thank you. Did you have any luck with the kid from LAPD?”

“Yes, actually.” The officer let out a tense breath as he prepared to give her better news. “He agreed to come in around one o’clock to speak with you.”

“Great. I’m going to get lunch now, before I inadvertently bite off someone else’s head.”

“Good idea.” Beckett gave him a weak smile. She headed directly to desk to gather her purse and keys. Eleven-fifteen was probably a bit early for lunch, but she’d been at the precinct since a little after seven, so she was due her break.

xXx

Beckett inserted her key into the lock of Castle’s front door. She let herself in quietly, emitting a sigh of relief that she didn’t hear any screaming or see any blood painted across the walls. She had barely set down her purse after announcing her presence before she heard the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps. Kevin came tearing around the corner and nearly crashed into her legs when he couldn’t stop quickly enough. She instinctively reached down to steady him.

“Beckett,” he said, breathlessly. “You’re here.”

Beckett knelt down so she could see him at eye level. “I missed my boys, so I decided to come home for lunch.”

“What happened?” His blue eyes widened as he scanned her face, focusing on the rising welt. Beckett had always thought that the Irish detective had pretty eyes. They looked huge in his little round face, reminding her of her favorite doll growing up. Unlike the night before, when he’d been clothed in either a man’s undershirt or Alexis’ old throwaways, he was now dressed in an outfit made for a boy his size. The red tee with the Avenger’s logo plastered across the front looked brand new, as did the navy blue shorts and miniature Adidas. “Beckett?”

“I got into a slight altercation with the older Bellefonte son,” she replied honestly. 

“Ouch. Is he in the hospital now?”

“No.” She smiled warmly at him. “Nobody warned him not to mess with me today.”

“Yeah, we should have put out an APB that you’d be on a tear today,” he said seriously. She laughed at that, feeling her spirits rise significantly. Kevin seemed to be handling the change well. He had done a complete one-eighty from his shell-shocked persona the night before.

“Where is everyone else?”

“In here, dear.” Beckett looked over Kevin’s shoulder to see Martha waving at her from the kitchen. To her surprise, another redhead was seated at the bar, smiling warmly at her. Beckett stood up and absently took Kevin’s hand, guiding him towards the kitchen. 

“Alexis, aren’t you supposed to be at school?”

“You all work way too much,” said the younger Castle. “You don’t even realize it’s Saturday. I don’t have class today.”

Kevin climbed up onto the bar stool next to Alexis. He knelt on his knees with his elbows propped on the bar so he could see what Martha was working on. The older woman handed him a chunk of apple that she’d just finished slicing for a fruit salad. “Alexis could tell that something was wrong, so she came home early this morning,” explained Martha.

“Dad is a horrible liar, but you know that,” said Alexis. “How are you doing, Detective? This has to be difficult for you.”

“I feel like I got the better end of the deal in this one,” said Beckett. She threaded her fingers through Kevin’s baby-soft hair. He turned to look critically at her. 

“Nonsense,” said Martha. “They’ve been here all day, playing video games and eating junk.” She handed Kevin another apple slice. “I forgot that Alexis basically raised herself and Richard has no idea what he’s doing.”

“Where is Castle?”

“Oh, around,” said Alexis. She exchanged a grin with Kevin. Beckett started to worry. 

“Put me down, put me down, put me down!” Beckett spun around to see Castle walking towards them with a struggling six year old trapped upside down in his arms. Javier’s face was an alarming shade of red. 

“Richard!”

“What?” demanded the writer. 

“What happened?” asked Beckett, hurrying forward to rescue her detective. She grabbed Javier under the arms and pulled him away from Castle. She set him carefully on the ground.

“When you speak to that witch again, tell her next time she turns someone into a child, she should rewind their memories of all the devious things they learned as adults, too.” Castle crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Javi?”

The Hispanic detective still looked a little red. The color was a startling contrast to his gray Marines tee and blue jeans. “I didn’t do anything.” Beckett returned her speculative look to Castle.

“You believe him over me?”

“You’re the adult, Castle.”

“Hey,” protested Javier. 

“Well?”

“He stole my cell phone and hid my video camera,” said Castle. Beckett had wondered why Castle hadn’t tried to contact her that morning. 

“Why?”

“He keeps taking pictures of us,” said Javier. “I don’t want any record of _this_ when it’s over.” 

“Castle, don’t you think that’s a little insensitive? This has to be humiliating for both of them.” Beckett ran her hand over the top of Javier’s head. He took a step towards her, glaring at the writer all the while.

“Can you blame me, Kate? This is gold… no, platinum! And if you want to talk about insensitive, your ‘wee little lad’ over there hacked into my laptop and was reading the draft of my next Nikki Heat novel.” Beckett had to cover her mouth with her hand so Castle wouldn’t see her smile. Unfortunately, he could still see the mirth dancing in her eyes. “What’s so funny?”

“Your Irish accent is awful,” she said, followed by a snicker. 

“So is the newest chapter of Heat,” called Kevin from his safe place next to Martha and Alexis. 

“It’s a draft, you little lep-” Castle stopped himself and took a cleansing breath. “It’s not supposed to be perfect yet, it’s a work in progress.”

“Look, this is all easily fixed,” said Beckett. “Javier, give Castle back his phone. Kevin, stay off of Castle’s laptop. Castle, do not try to make this any harder on them than it already is. Now, it looks like Martha has started something delicious for lunch. I’m starving.” She walked back to the bar. 

“It’s not liked I hacked into the computer,” said Kevin in a small voice. “I guessed his password on the first try. KatherineAlexis is not a secure key.”

“He has a point, Dad,” said Alexis.

“Still, you shouldn’t take advantage of his transparency like that,” said Beckett to her colleague. She tugged on the back of his shirt. “This is cute.”

“There are few things that Mother excels at, but wielding a credit card is definitely one of those things,” said Castle. He moved to the far side of the bar to steal a handful of blueberries before venturing to the refrigerator. 

“Richard, really,” complained Martha. She swept all of her diced and sliced fruit into a large mixing bowl and handed it to Alexis. “Dear, can you mix this?”

“Sure, Gram.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Beckett felt guilty watching the Castle family prepare the meal when she was fully capable of helping. 

“We’re almost done,” said Martha. 

Castle emerged from the refrigerator with a long neck and a gallon of milk. “Why don’t we move to the dining room,” he suggested, just as the timer for the oven went off. 

“I’ll help you set the table,” said Beckett. She knew where the plates and silverware were kept, so she made herself useful. Castle carried the newly poured glasses of milk to the table while Alexis brought the fruit salad and some napkins. Martha pulled the homemade thin crust pizza from the oven and set the stone on a hot pad at the center of the table. “This looks wonderful, Martha.”

“Thank you, darling. Now, dig in before it gets cold!” She took her seat at the foot of the table. Alexis sat next to her on the right, across from Javier. Beckett sat next to him while Kevin took the seat next to Alexis. Castle sat at the head of the table. He finally had the opportunity to really look at his girlfriend.

“Kate, what happened?”

“An unruly suspect. We can talk about that later.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.” Castle looked to his other side. “We really need to get you a booster seat. That can’t be comfortable.”

“’M fine,” muttered Kevin. He was once again on his knees so he could see over the edge of the table and reach his food. At least the seats of the chairs were padded. 

As they ate, Beckett was regaled with the stories of that morning’s adventures. While her boys seemed alright at the moment, apparently the morning had started off rather roughly. There had been plenty of arguing about whether supervision was required in the bath, what constituted an appropriate breakfast, and whether toddlers were allowed to drink coffee or not. Moods had improved slightly when Martha returned with bags of new clothes, though they had soured again after an extended fitting as the actress tried to figure out what fit and which franchises were acceptable as advertisements splayed across their chests. She’d gone out again to make exchanges.

Alexis had come home shortly after that. At first, the boys had thought it was Beckett stopping by, so they’d hurried out to greet her. After a thoroughly amusing (according to Castle) deer-in-headlights situation from both parties, the boys had disappeared into the guest room and remained hidden for nearly an hour while Castle tried to explain the situation to his daughter. Eventually the detectives had emerged again, warily keeping their distance from the college student. 

Once the picture taking started, Alexis proved to be more friend than foe as she appropriated her dad’s phone and gave it to Javier for safe keeping. They’d warmed to her quickly as she acted like their current predicament was completely normal and didn’t require any comments, sympathetic or mocking. Castle tried to thwart their growing boredom with video games, but apparently their attention spans had shortened as much as their statures. It was then that Kevin had snuck into Castle’s office and logged (hacked) into Castle’s computer and sought out the new Heat manuscript. He’d pretty much made it through the entire latest chapter before the writer had found him. 

Castle had wrestled both of them onto the couch and shoved the video camera in their faces, threatening dire amounts of future blackmail if they didn’t stop acting like miniature terrorists. Clearly not intimidated, Javier had used his covert ops skills to confiscate the recorder when Castle wasn’t looking and it disappeared into the same black hole where his phone had gone. The writer and the veteran started a cat-and-mouse game with the technology being the prize. It wasn’t long afterwards that Beckett finally arrived. 

Beckett laughed more than anyone, though it could be because she was hearing all of this second hand and hadn’t had to go through the drama herself. It was definitely more entertaining than her morning had been. She did tell them the embarrassing story about yelling at the poor officer who was trying to track down Randy Bellefonte. 

“You know,” said Kevin around a mouthful of pizza, “if you can get me a remote link to my work computer, I can help you with stuff like that.”

“At least that way it’d feel like we were doing something useful,” said Javier. “Does that witch have something to do with Valduerez’s murder? Is that why she turned Ryan and me into kids?”

“I don’t know what part she played in the murder, apart from turning Valduerez into a child as well, but I don’t think your condition has anything to do with it.”

“Then why?”

Beckett debated about what to tell him. In the end, it wasn’t worth lying to him since he’d see right through her anyway. “She told me that she likes little kids and she thought you two would look cute if she shrunk you down.”

“That’s it? She thought it would be _cute_?” 

“Javi, she’s deranged,” said Beckett. “She thinks she was doing your parents a favor. She wishes her own sons were little again.”

“What kind of fu-”

“Language,” interrupted Castle. Javier swallowed the curse word with a grimace and glanced at Alexis out of the corner of his eye. 

“She indicated to us yesterday that she taught her magic to her sons, too. I’m trying to track them down in hopes that they will help us undo the spell,” said Beckett. 

“And if they don’t?” asked Kevin.

“It sounds like it will wear off eventually on its own.”

Javier perked up. “That’s good news. How long?”

Beckett grimaced herself. “She didn’t say exactly. I guess it varies in each case.”

“Did she give you any time frame at all?” Javier gripped the arm of her chair, his large chocolate brown eyes begging her to say some bearable amount of time.

“Fourtosixweeks,” mumbled Beckett. She shoved a large spoonful of fruit into her mouth and chewed slowly. Three pairs of male eyes narrowed suspiciously at her. 

“Come again?” said Castle. 

Beckett swallowed gingerly. “Four to six weeks.”

“A month!” 

“At least,” said Beckett. She clasped Javier’s impossibly small hand between her own larger ones. “I promise you that I am going to find a way to reverse this curse long before it approaches a month.”

“What are you going to tell Captain Gates?” asked Alexis. “You can only claim complications from poisoning for so long.”

“I’m not sure yet, but I think I can use that excuse for at least another day or so. Maybe we can undo this before it becomes an issue.”

“Do you have a warrant yet to search Bellefonte’s house?” asked Javier. “Witches have spell books, don’t they, Castle?” 

“Sure, possibly. If not, maybe there is some of that lemonade left over. She was arrested not long after we left, so she might not have been able to destroy it yet. Toxicology may be able to reverse engineer an antidote,” suggested Castle. 

“Or, maybe you can track down another witch who knows that spell,” offered Martha. “If there’s one, why not more?”

“Detective Ryan?” Alexis’ softly spoken inquiry caused the rest of the group to look at the youngest detective. He had curled up against the back of the dining room chair, looking tiny and helpless and tragic. 

“Not again,” said Castle. He reached over to lift Kevin from his seat and cradled the toddler against his chest. He rested his chin on top of the mess of blond hair. “Come on kid, it took me so long to break you out of this funk last time.”

Beckett felt like crying herself. She squeezed Javier’s hand tightly. The seemingly good humor of the morning was revealed for what it really was: a weak front to disguise the chaos. Her boys weren’t okay and neither was she. 

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who left me kudos and to those who commented. :) I hope you continue to enjoy the story.


	5. Saturday Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The afternoon of the first day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Five

Kate stayed until she absolutely had to leave in order to make her appointment with the LAPD officer at one. Castle hated to see her go. He considered her the rock of their little team, around which the other three of them revolved. They each looked to her for leadership and steadfastness. He knew that she needed them, too. The team was broken right now; he could see it in all of their faces. He hated that he could do nothing to fix it. 

The demure mood of the loft had driven his mother to the therapy known as shopping. Alexis brought out her text books so she could set up at the coffee table in the living room. Drawing comfort from his daughter’s presence, Castle had claimed the couch, stretching out tiredly. He had his address book handy, as well as his newly returned cell phone so he could start calling his sources, hoping to find someone who knew how to get them out of this mess. 

Kevin had fallen asleep shortly after Kate left, tucked securely between Castle and the back of the couch. His breath was hot where his face was pressed against Castle’s side and his little fists were probably permanently wrinkling the expensive dress shirt where he clutched the silky fabric like a lifeline. The most painful discomfort came from where his knobby knees dug into Castle’s waist, just above his pelvic bone. Regardless, Castle left him alone, just grateful that he’d been talking enough by the time Beckett left to tell her good-bye.

Javier distracted himself with his own smart phone, playing Angry Birds and occasionally texting either Lanie or Kate. Castle watched him absently, trying to imagine what the grown-up-turned-child was thinking and feeling. Castle had never really had a great hold on Javier like he did Kate or Kevin. The veteran kept his heart closely guarded, much like Kate and definitely not like Kevin, whose heart typically was pretty much trying to jump off his sleeve. Castle had had the opportunity to get to know Kate and slowly she’d let him in. Javier, though sharing in a strong, mutual brotherly affection with the writer, was still a closed book. 

“What?”

Castle blinked and realized that Javier was now returning his gaze curiously. “Nothing.” Javier raised an eyebrow in a way that was so Grown Up Esposito that it hurt Castle’s heart to see it. “I’m trying to come up with a cover story to tell my sources so they won’t automatically think I’m crazy.”

“And staring at me helps?”

“You’ve always been my greatest inspiration, Espo.”

“Of course. That still doesn’t explain the creepy staring.”

Castle shifted slightly. The pain in his side was nearly unbearable. To his immeasurable relief, Kevin responded to the movement by sighing softly and stretching out so his legs were no longer curled under himself. “Oh, I was just wondering if the old hag was right about you being cute as a little kid. I suppose there’s something to say for her insight.”

“Bro, I could have told you that without going through this B.S.”

“I bet she didn’t know how modest you are,” said Castle sarcastically. Javier opened his mouth to respond, but glanced at Alexis and decided to keep his comment to himself. Castle wondered if he could convince her to stay home beyond Sunday. For as smart as she was, it probably wouldn’t affect her at all to miss a few weeks worth of classes. 

“Well, are you going to call anyone?”

“Can I take a picture, first?”

“No.”

“You are absolutely no fun,” complained Castle. Surely the boys trusted him not to show the evidence of their regression outside of their immediate circle of friends. Someday they would look back on this time with laughter and he wanted pictures, darn it. 

“Dad, do you need me to get you the cordless phone?” asked Alexis, without looking up from her book. 

“No, I’ll behave… for now.” Castle shot Javier a warning look before flipping open his address book and looking for someone who might know someone who knows someone…

Nothing. An hour of phone calls later and all he had to show for it was a significantly depleted battery and a lot of people who now worried for his mental health. Castle tossed his phone onto the end table near his head and used his newly freed fingers to massage his forehead. 

“Need some aspirin, Dad?”

“No, more like a shot of scotch.”

“I’ll second that,” said Javier. Castle twisted his stiff neck to look at the detective appraisingly. He debated about it longer than he probably should have. “No, alcohol causes brain damage in small humans.”

“That explains so much,” Javier deadpanned. 

“Shut it.” Castle sat up with a groan and stretched his arms over his head. Kevin rolled into the warm spot he left behind, still clinging to the last of his afternoon nap. “Want a juice box instead? Mother said I’m not allowed to give you soda pop or other sugary drinks anymore.”

“Juice boxes have as much sugar in them as soda,” said Alexis.

“Yes, but they also have fruit in them, so they are healthy.”

“Fruit concentrate,” corrected his mean daughter. 

“Water’s fine,” said Javier. He had abandoned his game a while ago and curled up with one of Castle’s Civil War history books. Castle didn’t point out the hypocrisy of Javier picking on Kate and Kevin for reading murder mysteries when he read war novels. 

Castle poured himself a tumbler of whiskey and grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator. He sat on the arm of Javier’s chair after handing the plastic bottle to his friend. “What do you say about going over to the Park after Kevin wakes up? I think we could all use some fresh air.”

“What if someone sees us?”

“I doubt anyone would recognize you even if they did see us. No matter how closely you resemble your grown up self, no one is going to come to the conclusion that you’d been rewound thirty years unless they already know,” said Castle.

“I think a walk sounds like a great idea,” said Alexis. “May I join you?”

“Of course. I’ll pack some snacks and a football. I think I have a mini Nerf ball around here somewhere.” Castle busied himself preparing a small cooler of water bottles, sliced fruit, and crackers. By the time he had dug the Nerf football out of the front closet, Kevin was awake and cautiously willing to take part in their outing. Alexis disappeared into her room for a bit. She smelled like citrus scented sunscreen when she reemerged. 

“Oh, good call,” said Castle when she handed him the bottle. “Come here, Kevin.” The toddler grudgingly allowed the writer to smear the thick lotion over his exposed skin. Grown Up Kevin’s complexion had darkened slightly with age, leaving him with naturally light brown hair and a healthy skin tone. Baby Kevin’s attentive mother had obviously kept her blue-eyed blond well protected from UV, since he was currently almost as fair as Alexis. “Do you want any, Javi?”

“Nah,” replied the Cuban detective. “This face was made for the sun.”

“You can still get skin cancer, you know,” said Kevin petulantly. 

“If two years in the desert didn’t do me in, I doubt an afternoon in Central Park will hurt me.” Javier plopped down next to the door to pull on his new sneakers. Castle feared an emotional break when Javier caught sight of his work shoes, still stacked neatly next to the door where he’d removed them the afternoon before. Castle let out a quiet breath when Javier shook his head minutely and went back to tying his pristine white laces. 

Castle had to help Kevin, much to the Irishman’s displeasure. He most definitely knew how to tie shoes, but his little fingers refused to cooperate. Castle’s pleasantly insightful mother hadn’t thought to get the toddler Velcro. Once the sunscreen was applied, shoes were securely tied, and the cooler was hooked over Castle’s shoulder, the quartet set out for the subway.

The subway was not one of Castle’s best decisions ever. It was Saturday, and a nice day at that. Apparently everyone had decided that getting out of their apartments was the way to spend the day. He was grateful that the two detectives knew the danger of taking small children on the crowded subway and therefore made sure to stay close to the writer. Alexis reached down for Kevin’s hand, which he allowed her to take without protest. Castle suspected that he was too busy staring about himself curiously to really realize what had happened. It had probably been a long time since the detective had seen the subway from his new vantage point. 

To their great fortune, a pair of seats emptied out just as they stepped onto the train. Alexis and the boys crowded into the hard plastic bench while Castle held on tightly to the pole next to them. An older woman, seated in the handicapped seats perpendicular to their bench, smiled maternally at the kids. Castle smacked Javier in the back of the head for returning her look with a suspicious glare of his own. 

Castle’s loft was fairly close to the park. The three subway stops passed quickly and soon they were spilling off the train with about a dozen other people. They emerged from the underground station across the street from the grassy area. Castle kept a close eye on Javier while Alexis held Kevin’s hand again. Being outside was definitely a good idea. The writer could practically feel the pent up energy emitting from the detectives. Usually they were kept busy chasing down leads or doing paperwork. At his loft, they hadn’t really had an outlet for their energy. 

They found an open spot under a large oak tree where Castle felt they could leave their cooler and still keep an eye on it. He dug out the Nerf football and shouted for Kevin to go long. The little boy took off, shedding the last of his melancholy as he darted across the grass with his partner hot on his heels. He barely managed to catch the squishy ball before Javier tackled him, sending them both crashing to the ground. Castle immediately cringed. Javier had been a little taller and more built than Kevin as adults. Now he was much bigger than the skinny four year old. 

The two scuffled for the football, but by the time Castle reached them, they had broken apart and were laughing as they each tried to out-trash talk the other. He felt foolish for worrying. Of course Javier wouldn’t hurt Kevin. He decided to worry instead about what the mothers nearby would think if they heard what his “kids” were saying to each other. “Hey, keep the adult language to a minimum, yeah? You’re making me look like a bad dad.” 

“Don’t worry, if they ask, we’ll just say you kidnapped us and had nothing to do with our questionable upbringing,” said Kevin. 

“That doesn’t help. Give me the ball.”

They formed a two-on-two pickup game, with Castle and Kevin working together against Javier and Alexis. Eventually, more families want to join until they had a fairly large game going. Castle didn’t bother to correct any of the dads who complimented him on how well his kids played the game. He wasn’t about to pass on any kind of praise or admit that each of the boys had twenty-odd years of practice at this sport.

Castle was in the pocket, about to make a deep pass downfield but needing just seconds longer for his receiver to break away, when the opposing line flushed him out and forced him to scramble. He noticed Javier about ten yards in front of him, pushing away from his defender. He doubted that anyone would realize that Javier wasn’t technically an eligible receiver. Heck, he doubted any of the children even knew that such a thing existed. If Mr. Pro-Baller Wannabe on the other team complained, he’d argue that it was just a game. 

Castle made brief eye contact with Javier and wound up to make the pass. Just before he could release the ball, the sight of someone unexpected standing on the sideline with Alexis ruined his concentration. The ball hit the ground about three feet in front of Javier.

“Castle! What kind of wimpy pass was that?”

“Look who’s here,” Castle responded, pointing towards the newcomer. Javier immediately recognized her as well. The kid started jogging towards the sideline. Castle collected Kevin, made his excuses to the group, and graciously offered to let them keep using his football while his group took a short break. 

“So, while the women slave away all day in the office, the men play football,” said Kate as they approached. 

“Did you see Castle’s pitiful pass? I was wide open.” 

“I did,” said Lanie. She winked at Castle. “You having fun, Javi?”

“I guess.” He didn’t want to admit that for a short while, being trapped in a child’s body hadn’t bothered him so much.

Kate lifted Kevin onto her hip and pressed a kiss to his rosy cheek. She pulled away and made a disgusted face. “Yuck, you taste like sunscreen.”

“That’s Castle’s fault,” the youngest detective said seriously. 

“At least he’s taking good care of you,” replied Kate. “How long have you guys been out here?”

“About an hour and a half,” answered Alexis. “Are you still working?”

“Unfortunately. We’re retracing the possible route that Serafina Valduerez may have taken before she was murdered. So far, we haven’t found any indication of where she may have fired her shotgun, but we haven’t made it very far yet.”

“How’d you escape the morgue?” Javier asked Lanie.

“Beckett wanted some company and I wanted to smell exhaust instead of formaldehyde,” the ME replied. “You better watch out, Javi, Beckett might find she likes my company better than yours and let me join her more often.”

“That’s a foregone conclusion,” said Kate. Javier pouted pitifully at her. 

“Can we go with you to canvas for the shotgun scatter?” asked Kevin. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetie.” Kate tucked a few wayward strands of blond behind his ear. Castle wondered if Kevin had really held much hope for her saying yes. He didn’t look surprised when she said no. 

“How are you feeling? No side effects from the transformation?”

“They’re a little more emotional than usual,” offered Castle. 

“That’s part of being young, Castle,” said Lanie. “Anything out of the ordinary for a six or four year old?”

“I don’t think so,” replied Javier. “Physically, I feel fine. The achiness and nausea are gone, finally.”

“Kevin?”

“Same.” He rested his head tiredly against Kate’s shoulder. 

“I think you’re bad karma, Beckett,” said Castle. “When he’s with me, he’s all sunshine and lucky charms. Then you come around and we’re back to ‘who stole me pot of gold?’”

“I’m going to big again one of these days and we’re going to rehash every single one of your leprechaun jokes, Castle,” said Kevin with a glower. Castle equated the look with being growled at by a puppy: not very intimidating. 

“Ugh, well we should probably get back to work,” said Beckett. She set Kevin on his own feet. 

“Were you able to track down the younger Bellefonte?” asked Castle.

“According to his receptionist, he’s out of town. No answer yet on his cell-phone, but apparently he doesn’t keep it nearby much when he’s away from the office. I’ll keep trying until he answers.” She glanced at Lanie, who was still poking at Javier experimentally, much to the detective’s annoyance. “Ready?”

“Sure,” replied the ME. The two women strode away, leaving the original quartet standing under the shade of the large oak tree where they’d deposited Castle’s cooler. By that time, the pickup football game had dissolved. One of the other dads must have dropped the Nerf ball by the cooler at the end of the game. 

“Shall we spend more time in the park or head somewhere else?” Castle dropped to his haunches so he was on eye level with Kevin. From his position, he had to look up a bit to see Javier. 

The two shrunken partners looked at each other for a long moment. Castle marveled that they were still able to communicate through visual cues alone, despite their facial features and bodies being much different. Suddenly Javier’s pet name for his partner seemed more like the truth than just a term of endearment. They _were_ brothers.

“Let’s go back to your place,” said Javier. He tugged at the hem of his once new shirt. “I’m over the ‘caked with sweat and mud’ feeling.”

“You have to be the most fastidious six year-old on the planet.” Castle laughed. 

“The what?” Javier looked at him suspiciously. 

“He’s commenting on you wanting to change because you’re dirty,” muttered Kevin.

“Because little boys love to be messy,” elaborated Castle. 

“Well, I’m not _six_.” Javier crossed his arms. “Those of us who have grown up at least once understand that hygiene is important.”

Castle decided not to be offended by Javier’s implication that he had never grown up, especially when the comment elicited a faint giggle from Kevin. Really, what was it about their senior partner that always brought out the downer in the Irish detective? “Fine, if you want to be a girl about it, we can go home. Is that alright with you, Alexis?”

“I don’t know, Dad. What are you trying to say about girls?”

Castle groaned theatrically. “Not you, too.”

“I suppose I do still like you,” admitted Alexis. “We should go before you say something else that will justify Detective Esposito creating New York’s next murder scene.” 

“You don’t have to call me Detective Esposito,” said Javier. “It seems like everyone else has decided to call me Javier, so you might as well, too.”

“Are you sure?” Javier shrugged dismissively. Alexis smiled faintly in response. 

“Do you mind us calling you that?” asked Castle. He never stopped to think that the two detectives might not like the change in familiarity that the full-size adults had suddenly adopted. He knew that he, Kate, and Lanie were doing it to help themselves cope with the change, regardless of the boys’ preference.

“Why did you start?” asked Kevin.

“Because imagining two little boys as homicide detectives was making my brain hurt,” said Castle. “I guess I’m still kind of in denial.”

“ _Your_ brain hurts?” Javier rolled his eyes. 

“I get it that you actually had to go through the transformation, but this is hard for all of us,” said Castle sternly. “Poor Beckett attacked a peon at the station due to the stress of trying to solve a murder and fix this mess by herself.”

“Wow, you actually sounded like a father right then.” Alexis blinked owlishly at her father. 

“Don’t get used to it.” Castle slapped his hands on his knees and propelled himself back up to his full height. “I’m supposed to be the fun one. How did we get in this dreary conversation in the first place?” He nudged the boys towards the tree so they could collect the cooler before making for the subway station. 

“You were asking about calling us by our first names,” said Kevin. “I don’t care.”

“Fine with me.” Javier still sounded a little angry. Castle was glad that he currently weighed about three times as much as the kid. He felt much safer when Javier was in a good mood. Absently, he wondered if learning how to be intimidating was part of basic training for the military.

“Hey, did you comment about hurting brains because this has blown your mind, too, or because you have a headache?” Castle pushed on Javier’s shoulder to get the kid to look at him. 

“Like I told Lanie, I’m fine,” replied Javier. 

“Okay, good.” He reached down to pick up the cooler, whose strap he slung over his shoulder. Kevin picked up the Nerf ball. Alexis took the lead, directing them back to the subway while Castle walked in the back, keeping an eye on all of the young people in his charge. The sense of responsibility he felt was kind of empowering. He didn’t like it. 

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, we actually get someone else’s point of view besides Beckett’s. The rest of the story will alternate between Castle and Beckett POVs for the most part. There are a few parts from Ryan or Esposito’s POV later on. Hopefully you’ll be able to tell whose vantage point the story is coming from without it really interrupting the flow too much. I’m practicing writing in third person (not omnipotent), so if you have some thoughts on that, I’d love to hear them. 
> 
> As for why Beckett refers to herself as ‘Beckett’ while Castle thinks of her as ‘Kate,’ I don’t know. I also don’t know why no one thinks of Castle as ‘Richard.’ It’s a mystery…


	6. Saturday Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Beckett actually does some investigating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Six

Beckett and Lanie arrived at the alley where the girl they now believed to be Serafina Valduerez had been murdered the day before. The area had been cleared of any evidence and someone had tried to wash away the blood, though a hint of it could still be seen on the gray concrete. Yellow police tape blocked the area, just in case they found more evidence later. 

“So, the victim was standing here when she was shot,” said Beckett. She recreated the crime scene in her mind while she took her position, standing where Serafina had fallen. 

“She was lying on her back, with her feet pointed towards the street.” Lanie kept her distance and glanced down the alley, looking for anything that might have been missed previously. 

“But she was shot in the front, so she must have been facing away from the alley. Why would she go into the alley in the first place, only to turn around and be attacked by the killer?” Beckett frowned as she tried to imagine the last few minutes before the girl’s murder. 

“The murderer could have been hiding behind some of these trash bins,” said Lanie. She pointed to a group of smelly tin cans. “She’s far enough into the alley that she might have tried to investigate some noise and when she passed the killer, he snuck up behind her.”

“That’s possible. If the killer had been watching her, he or she would know that Serafina passed this alley on her way to the school.” Beckett listened carefully for a second, but all she could make out was the din of the traffic on 34th and the closest café. “It’s too loud for her to have heard something worth investigating. She must have been meeting someone.”

“The killer?”

“Maybe.” Beckett walked towards the street, leaving behind the darker, mustier alley. “She always came from that direction. Let’s walk that way to see if we can find out where she encountered chlorine.”

“It was a match for the concentration typically found in pool chemicals,” said Lanie. “If we can find an apartment building or hotel with a pool near here, we may find our other crime scene.” The two women stepped completely out of the alley and into the warm afternoon sun. Beckett kept her eyes open for suspicious people or items. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary by the time they reached one of the Central Park luxury hotels and meeting centers. 

“Indoor pool,” read Beckett aloud from the sign advertising the hotel’s numerous amenities. 

“What would an eight year-old girl or a druggie woman be doing in a place like this?” asked Lanie. The building wasn’t one of the fanciest ones in the city, nor was it owned by one of the major hotel chains. Still, its proximity to Central Park was worth more than a prestigious name and that fact was more than reflected in the price of the rooms. 

“Robbing someone.” Beckett pointed to a tasteful placard in the window which directed visitors towards the main ballroom where a convention was being held. The week-long event was centered around buying and selling antique and rare jewelry. 

“Oh, I heard about this show,” said Lanie. “Supposedly it costs two hundred dollars just to be admitted and that doesn’t go towards anything you might buy inside.”

“When we get back to the precinct, I’m going to put a rush on the analysis of those studs found in the victim’s ears. In the meantime, let’s ask around. You’d think someone would be squawking if they’d been relieved of expensive diamond earrings.” Beckett pulled out her badge to have ready as she approached the main entrance of the hotel. Predictably, they were stopped by a uniformed hotel employee.

“Do you have tickets to the convention?” The man, who was hardly as tall as Lanie, looked down his nose at the two women. Beckett realized that most of the women who would attend this sort of event probably dressed to impress. Her work suit and Lanie’s casual wear didn’t pass inspection. 

“Will this suffice?” Beckett shoved her badge in the man’s snooty face. “Detective Beckett, NYPD. I’m investigating a murder and possible robbery. Is there anyone I can speak with in this regard?”

“Let me call my manager. Please wait out here.” The man gave them one last distrustful look before moving a few feet away and picking up the house phone near the exterior concierge stand. He returned after a short conversation. “Mr. Peller will be with you shortly.” He resumed his position guarding the door and looked less than likely to allow them inside before the manager arrived. Beckett sighed and resigned herself to waiting without. 

Eventually the manager, Mr. Peller, stepped out of the hotel and approached them with an air of severe inconvenience. “How may I help you, detective?”

“Information has come to light in one of my murder investigations that may have something to do with the jewelry show that your hotel is hosting. Have any of the guests reported missing items?”

“Our hotel has state of the art security equipment,” replied Peller. 

“That’s not what I asked,” said Beckett. The man frowned and shifted his weight in aggravation. 

“If something had been taken from one of our guests or visitors, we would handle it internally. That way, the victims remain anonymous. Dealing with the NYPD always results in a media circus.”

“Circus or no, any recent thefts may be related to my homicide and I’m going to insist that you inform me of any such incidents.” Beckett hated it when people were difficult. If Mr. Peller would just work with her, they could all go home at a reasonable hour and the criminals could get their just rewards.

“I’m afraid you’re going to need a warrant to subpoena our records. Until you have one of those, I ask you to please vacate the premises.”

“Listen, Mr. Peller,” started Lanie, but Beckett cut her off. 

“Thank you for your time.” Beckett guided Lanie away from the hotel. “He’s not worth it.”

“I can’t believe how unhelpful he was,” said the ME. “Do you deal with that on every case?”

“It happens a lot.” Beckett ran her fingers through her loose hair. “I’ll see if I can get a judge to grant me a warrant but this lead seems like a stretch, even to me. Maybe if I combine it with the possible chlorine from the pool, I can at least get inside.”

“Maybe you could send Castle inside,” suggested Lanie. “He might be enough of a celebrity to bypass Mr. Unhelpful.”

“Possibly.” Beckett tossed the idea around and found that she liked it. She would suggest it to the writer that evening. “Let’s return to the station. I’ll try Randy Bellefonte one more time.” Together, she and Lanie made the trek back to the 12th Precinct. This wasn’t her first case with difficult suspects or witnesses but the extra personal aspect of it was making the trials all the more infuriating. She was definitely looking forward to an evening with Castle’s finest liquid relaxant. 

Because she was a glutton for punishment - figuratively, of course - she decided to stop by holding after leaving yet another voicemail on Randy Bellefonte’s cell phone. She knew that Rayford had been released earlier, having somehow managed to make bail on his assault charge. Nora Bellefonte should still be in the temporary jail cells since her crime had been a bit more grievous and they were also holding her for murder. 

The holding cells were devoid of any females. The only occupants were a couple of middle-aged drunkards who had been dragged from the streets on disorderly conduct charges. The guard informed her that Ms. Bellefonte had been moved to a minimum security prison pending the investigation. She would have to wait until tomorrow if she wanted to push the older woman to reverse the curse she’d put on Ryan and Esposito. 

Feeling acutely dejected, Beckett retrieved her car keys and purse from her desk. As she was straightening up, she glanced towards the pair of desks where her partners usually sat. She suddenly remembered Ryan’s offer during lunch. Even though they were in children’s bodies, the two could still help her reason out and track down suspects. She marched over to Ryan’s desk and logged into his computer. It took a few simple steps to set up the remote access feature. He could probably access the machine from Castle’s laptop. Tomorrow, she’d take his keys and pick up his laptop from his apartment. 

She sent a short text message to Castle, alerting him that she was on her way home. Even though she didn’t have any good news to share with her team, she was looking forward to spending the evening with her favorite people.

xXx

Beckett let herself into the apartment. Unlike that morning, she wasn’t greeted at the door. Instead, she followed the sounds of explosions and gunfire to the living room. On the big flat screen played some superhero movie with which she was unfamiliar.

“Hey, you,” greeted Castle when he spotted her. He was seated in the middle of the couch with a large bowl of popcorn in his lap. One of her detectives sat on either side of him, transfixed by the movie and eating absently from the snack bowl. Alexis had claimed one of the armchairs, though she was concentrating on a text book instead of the television. 

“What are you watching?”

“Iron Man,” said Javier. He looked up at her with a welcoming smile, but his attention was quickly drawn back to the action on the television. Beckett wedged her way onto the couch beside him. The three males shifted to give her more room. Castle offered her the bowl of popcorn. She snagged a few kernels. 

“Did you have fun in the park after I left?” Beckett asked. She ran the back of her index finger down the side of Javier’s face, marveling at how soft the skin was just in front of his ear. It wasn’t like she spent a lot of time touching her partner’s face when he was full-size, but she knew her own skin wasn’t as baby soft anymore. At least, it was not soft without the help of a lot of moisturizer. 

“We left right after you,” he answered without looking at her. 

“What happened to your football game?”

“The other people left.” He glanced at her briefly from the corner of his eye as if wondering with how many more questions she was going to pester him. She rolled her eyes. Of course he was more interested in the action movie than her. Boys. 

Beckett leaned forward a little bit so she should see her younger partner. He was equally fixated on the television, with wide eyes directed solely towards the screen. She didn’t miss that his baby blues were circled with a tinge of red, as if he’d been upset recently. This caused her to frown. She’d never seen either of her partners shed tears outside of the tragic death of their previous captain, Montgomery. 

“Castle?”

“Yes, Kate?” He actually turned to look at her. 

“Can I talk to you?” The “in private” was strongly implied. Castle seemed to understand. He handed the popcorn bowl to Javier with specific instructions to not eat all of it before the writer returned. Castle stood up and offered a hand to Beckett. She allowed him to pull her off the couch. Together, they made their way into the kitchen. 

“How did your investigating go this afternoon?” he asked. 

“Another roadblock.” She sighed. “Lanie and I may have found where Valduerez was before her murder, but the manager of the hotel wouldn’t speak to us without a warrant. It seems like this whole case is just one hurdle after another.”

“Which hotel? I may have connections there.”

“The Clairemont near Central Park. Actually, I was hoping you could go over there and do a little snooping. They’re hosting a jewelry convention, which may be where Serafina got those diamond earrings she was wearing.”

“So you want me to attend the show and see if anyone was robbed recently?”

“Yes.”

“I can do that.” Castle pulled open the refrigerator and retrieved two bottles of water. He offered one to Beckett. 

“Actually, I was hoping for something a little stronger.”

“I can do that, too. I have just the thing for frustrating cases.” The writer raided his liquor cabinet and poured them both a shot of scotch whiskey. “Cheers.” 

Beckett slammed hers back, thrilling at the burn as it scorched down her throat. Castle poured her another. This time, she didn’t rush in order to enjoy the taste and the warmth in her mouth. “Did something happen after the park?”

“What do you mean?”

“The boys don’t seem as upbeat as they were this afternoon. Kevin’s eyes are a little red, too.”

“Ah, yes. There was an… incident… when we got home. We were all quite smelly, so I took a quick shower before helping the boys clean up. We once again got to argue about who needs what kind of supervision in a tub full of water, but that was finally resolved by my sitting outside the bathroom while Javier gave a stirring monologue about how insulted he was that I didn’t trust him to clean himself without drowning.”

“I bet that was entertaining.”

“I’ll show you the video later,” offered Castle. “Since he was behind the door, he couldn’t see me recording. Unfortunately, all you can see is the carpet, but the audio is entertaining.”

“So what happened to Kevin?”

“First of all, he’s a little less stubborn than Javi, so he let me help him to some degree. He’s so little that reaching stuff and being able to hold things are difficult. His mind remembers how to perform basic motor skills, but his body has forgotten.”

“I can’t even imagine. He’s been dealing with it pretty well, from what I can see.”

“For the most part, yes,” said Castle. “I was helping him rinse the shampoo out of his hair and I guess I scared him.”

“How did you scare him?” Beckett was surprised at how protective she suddenly felt. If anyone should be responsible for two kids, it was the real life father. Still, she wanted to gather the shrunken detective in her arms and not let anyone else near him. 

“Apparently, having water dumped over his head brings back bad memories that haven’t been fully put away yet.” Castle rubbed his forehead as if he had a headache. 

“Lockwood.” Beckett frowned deeply as she looked into the living room where her junior partners were still focused on the movie, which was nearing the end. That particular case had wrapped up over a year and a half ago. She didn’t like that it was still affecting her partner, even if only subconsciously. 

“That was the last straw and the camel’s back broke. First, he cried from being startled, which turned into tears of humiliation from crying in the first place, and then finally ended with sobbing about how this whole situation is completely unfair.” Castle looked pained as he recounted the story. “Honestly, I prefer that to his tendency to just shut down when feeling overwhelmed, but it still wasn’t any fun.”

“God, I hate this case so much.” Beckett swallowed with difficulty thanks to the lump in her throat. “How did Javi react?”

“Oh, he just looked angry and helpless. For a minute I was worried I was going to have both of them freaking out, but thankfully Javier kept it together.”

“Good.”

“Sounds like drama all around.” Castle refilled their shot glasses. “Did you speak to Bellefonte the Younger yet?”

“No. His brother is out on bail, but Nora Bellefonte is now at the minimum security joint just outside of town. I’ll press her for information again tomorrow.”

“Why did they move her out of the holding cell?” asked Alexis. She came up from behind Beckett and set her textbook on the bar counter before reaching for her dad’s bottled water. 

“We try not to keep people in the precinct for extended periods,” said Beckett. “The judge is keeping her without bail since she admitted to purposefully putting a foreign agent in the drinks of two NYPD detectives.”

“Did you find out anything in your other leads?”

“No, Beckett was just telling me that everything has been a dead end so far,” replied Castle. “It looks like we’re stuck babysitting again tomorrow.”

“I don’t mind. They’re cute and funny, especially when they gang up on you,” said Alexis. 

“Whatever you do, don’t let them think you’re enjoying their curse,” said Castle. “Javier might hide something precious to you.”

“First, I don’t have a video camera, and secondly, I’m not enjoying that they’re trapped in kid bodies. I just don’t think they’re so bad to be around.” Alexis smiled sweetly at her father. “I think they like me more than you.”

“I’m sure they do,” said Beckett. “Little Castle has always been less trying than Big Castle.”

“I feel very ganged up on, here,” complained Big Castle. Alexis laughed. 

“I think the movie is pretty much over. What are we doing for dinner?”

“How about breakfast? Pancakes sound wonderful to me.”

“Dad, we had pancakes for breakfast.”

“Are you implying that one can only eat pancakes once a day?” Castle looked completely crestfallen. 

“No. I love your pancakes, but maybe Beckett and the boys don’t want that again.”

“Kate didn’t have pancakes this morning.”

“Javier?” Beckett decided to put an end to the debate sooner rather than later. 

“What?”

“Are you and Kevin fine with pancakes for dinner?”

“We had pancakes for breakfast.”

“So?” Castle pouted. 

“Whatever, bro. Sounds good to me.”

“Pancakes it is,” said Beckett. With renewed spirits, Castle set to work making their dinner. The movie finally ended a few minutes later. Javier waited until Kevin finished shutting down the system and then they walked over to the kitchen together. 

Javier stepped up on the bottom rung of Beckett’s barstool and hung off the backrest in order to see over the counter. Kevin plopped down on the carpet near her feet so he could lean back against the bar while fiddling with his smart phone. Beckett discretely wrapped her arm around Javier to keep him from slipping off the side of her stool. “So you like me now?” she asked.

“I always like you, Becks. You just pick bad times to try to start conversations.”

“And this is why you’re single.” 

“And this is why you’re with Castle. He’s always willing to have a conversation.” Javier pushed himself up to the higher rung since he still couldn’t really see anything. Now, his upper body easily cleared the countertop and he could rest his elbows on the hard surface. 

“Hey, I resemble that remark,” said Castle. He shook his spatula in Javier’s direction. The younger man just shook his head. 

“Did that witch tell you how to make us big again?” Javier asked. He twisted around so he could see his senior partner. 

“No, and you’re making me nervous.” Beckett gently grasped his upper arm. “Can’t you sit in a chair like a person instead of a monkey?” Javier scowled at her, but Beckett held his gaze steadily until he huffed and let himself drop to the floor. He made his way to the third stool and climbed up to sit normally in it. 

“All right, first round of Pancakes à la Castle is ready,” announced the writer. He set a platter piled high with golden round disks in the center of the bar. A stack of plates appeared next, which he distributed to his friends. Beckett hadn’t thought she was that hungry until the first buttery bite hit her tongue. After that she dug in enthusiastically. Castle made really good pancakes. 

Javier and Alexis also helped themselves while Castle poured everyone glasses of milk. He finally made himself a plate, only to notice that he still had one extra plate and glass. “Where’s Kev?”

Beckett glanced down at the floor. The blond was still there, flipping through various screens on his phone and acting completely uninterested in the meal. “Aren’t you hungry, sweetie?” she asked. 

“Oh, no, I’m fine.” He looked up to give her a brief grin. Beckett looked over at Castle and shrugged. He frowned but didn’t comment. The rest of the group tucked into their breakfast-dinner, making small talk and laughing at the amusing antidotes that Alexis or Javier would tell about the day. Even though they were crowded around the bar (Castle had to stand since all the seats were taken) she had rarely enjoyed a meal so much. She liked the intimacy of it and she felt like she was with family instead of just friends and co-workers. 

When they were finished, Beckett and Alexis joined forces to clean up the kitchen. Castle talked Kevin into an apple, which the youngest detective sparingly ate from his spot in Beckett’s vacated stool. It was already nearing eight by the time they finished and Beckett was keen to the yawns that Javier and Kevin tried to hide. The two were notorious for staying up much later than they should, either out at bars or playing video games, so their fatigue had to be due to their new sizes. Surprisingly, neither put up any resistance when Castle suggested they head to bed. 

Alexis also made her excuses to retreat to her room, probably vying for some privacy. That left Castle and Beckett alone in the main part of the loft, which suited the detective just fine. They snuggled together in one of the large armchairs before the fireplace with a nightcap each. After a hard day of trying to work through a murder by herself, it felt wonderful to Beckett to curl into Castle’s warm chest and just let it all go. They sat in peace for a long while, with Beckett staring mindlessly into the flickering flames and Castle absently stroking her hair. 

“I missed you today,” said Beckett eventually. “I guess I take for granted how much humor you bring to my day.”

“Likewise,” said Castle. “Well, not humor so much, but lots of sexiness.” She giggled and leaned up to kiss him. He heartedly welcomed her attention and responded in kind. She really was too tired for anything beyond an extended make-out session. Being close to her lover was good enough for tonight. Castle’s warm hands slid under her shirt, resting just above the waistband of her pants. His touch anchored her there. She imagined that nothing could go wrong as long as she was with Castle. 

They finally drew apart when the clock on the mantle started chiming the ten o’clock hour. Beckett had no idea what had happened to the nine o’clock hour. “Twenty-four hours, give or take,” said Castle. 

“We all survived the first day.”

“Shall we retire to the bedroom?” 

“Yes.” Beckett slid off the chair to allow Castle to stand as well. Hand in hand they headed towards the back of the loft. Castle detoured them briefly to peak into the guest room. Beckett smiled softly at the sight of her two partners curled up together in the middle of the bed. Castle once again left the door cracked open. Finally, they made it to their own bed.

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the kudos and reviews! You encourage me to update more often than I intended originally. 
> 
> The Avengers and Iron Man belong to Marvel/Disney. I promise to keep the superhero references to a minimum in the future. Chapter seven starts off with more bad news for the gang, so look forward to that.


	7. Sunday Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team gets some bad news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Seven

Castle awoke to the annoying buzzing of Kate’s phone. Fortunately, the detective woke as well. She reached over and grabbed the offending device without opening her eyes. “Beckett.”

Whatever the person on the other end of the line had to say caused her to snap to full alertness. She nearly conked her head on Castle’s chin as she sat up suddenly, clutching the phone like it was trying to escape her grasp. “What do you mean, she had a stroke?”

Castle couldn’t help but feed off of the panic that was radiating from his partner. He had no idea who had had a stroke but clearly this was Bad News. Beckett slid out of bed and stalked towards the closest, one hand tangled in her hair while the other pressed the phone to her ear. “When did this happen? Can she speak at all?”

“What’s going on?” asked Castle. He pulled on his housecoat before following Beckett into the walk-in closet. She was pulling the pieces of a pant suit off a hanger. 

“I’ll be there as soon as I can… why afternoon? No, I need to speak with her immediately.” Beckett tossed her slacks onto the bed angrily as she burst from the closet. “Fine, call me if her condition changes at all.” Beckett ended the call and chucked her phone at the bed. It bounced off the rumpled covers and onto the floor. 

“Kate, what happened?” Castle grabbed her shoulders. He hated being worried and not knowing why. “Who was on the phone?”

“That was the warden from the minimum security joint where Nora Bellefonte is being held. She had a stroke in the middle of the night. They moved her to the ICU at Saint Samuel’s. Castle, she’s basically a vegetable now.”

“Oh no.” Castle now understood her reaction. “Shit.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do now?” demanded Kate. “She’s the only one who knows what was in that fucked up lemonade she gave Ryan and Esposito.” The detective sat down heavily on the edge of the bed with her elbows on her knees. She pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes. 

“It’s okay…” He really wanted her to calm down. She was scaring him a little. She rarely let her control snap like this. 

“It’s not fucking okay, Castle!” 

Well, if anyone else in the loft had still been sleeping, they were awake now. “Kate, listen to me. This is horrible news, but it’s not the end of the world. There are still people out there who might be able to undo her spell and even if there aren’t, we know it will wear off eventually. We’ll just have to deal a little longer.”

“I don’t want to deal with this for another minute,” said Kate, tearfully. “I want the world to go back to normal. Now.”

“It’s never going to be how you remember it,” insisted Castle. “The knowledge of witches and magic will always be with us. But things will get better. You just have to hold on.”

“Richard, what is going on in here?” Martha peeked around the door, her red hair dancing around her face haphazardly. 

“Bellefonte, the old lady who shrunk the boys, had a stroke. She can’t tell us how to undo the spell anymore.”

“Oh dear.”

“I’m sorry for alarming you, Martha,” said Kate. 

“No worries. I’ll go check on the kids while you two pull yourselves together.”

“Thank you, mother.” Castle looked back at Kate. “Can you do that?”

“I think so. I just need a minute or ten. I want to scream. I feel like I’m about to burst.”

“This is one thing Demming was good for; letting you beat the crap out of him in the workout room to let off some steam.”

“Maybe I’ll just cry instead.” Kate brushed the hair away from her face and took a few deep breaths. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“You’re not going in to work right now, are you? It’s Sunday and it’d be nice if you could stay with us for at least part of the day. The boys are going to need your strength when they find out the news.”

“What strength?” Kate barked out an unpleasant laugh. “The nurse said that Bellefonte can’t have any visitors until this afternoon and even that is tentative. There’s really nothing I can do. The labs don’t work on Sunday unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

“Good. I’m glad you’ll be here. You can take a shower; I’ll go see what everyone else is doing.” Castle knew that she was going to make good on her threat to cry, using the shower to mask her emotion. He was fine with that as long as she was releasing some of her pent up frustration. After yesterday’s episode during bath time, Castle feared she wouldn’t be the only one suffering a mental and emotional break that morning. 

The detective shut herself in the bathroom. Castle took a deep breath and then ventured out into the main living area of his loft. Waiting expectantly for him were two redheads, a blond, and a brunet. Martha was wrapped in her brightly colored dressing gown, her hair still mostly unkempt. Likewise, the younger generation was still in their sleep clothes. Castle briefly mused about how much he still liked the matching t-shirt and sleep pants that Alexis wore, decorated with little inkpots and quills. He’d gotten those for her on her sixteenth birthday and was touched that she still wore them. 

“What’s going on?” Javier’s question brought Castle back into the current conversation. 

“What do you mean?” Castle sidestepped around the group and made a beeline for the kitchen and his coffee machine. 

“Why is Beckett yelling at you at seven A.M.?” asked Kevin. The quartet followed after him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He was halfway through the living room when small hands grabbed his housecoat and pulled. Hard. Castle was surprised to be dragged to a stop. He looked down at Javier’s upturned glare. 

“Did you do something to her?”

“Of course not - why would you think that?” Castle tried to untangle the detective’s fists from the somewhat expensive fabric of the robe but Javier refused to be detached. 

“I warned you that if you ever upset her…”

“Mother, a little help here?” Castle looked beseechingly at the older woman. Martha threw up her hands defensively and shook her head. 

“I’m not getting in the middle of this one.” She continued on the way to the kitchen, leaving Castle alone with a combined eighty pounds and seventy-five inches of annoyed NYPD homicide detectives. 

“Alexis?”

“I want to know, too,” the college student replied. “You seem really agitated. What’s wrong?”

“Kate got some bad news. We should wait for her to discuss it.”

“You can tell us now,” suggested Javier. Actually, Castle didn’t really feel like Javier was suggesting anything… more like demanding in a very intimidating way that shouldn’t be possible for someone the size of a first grader. 

“Castle.” Now Kevin had latched onto his other side and was experimenting with whether puppy-dog eyes would work better than direct threats. 

“I need coffee.” A sudden inspiration struck him. Javier wouldn’t magically develop x-ray vision and put a laser beam through Castle’s head if his partner was between them, right? Castle scooped up the blond and made his break for the kitchen while the two detectives were still stunned by the unexpected move. Javier might have lost his grip on the luxury housecoat, but he stayed hot on the writer’s heels as they crossed the living room. 

His canister of fresh coffee grounds was empty. With a muted expletive, Castle pulled open one of the lower cabinets where his grinder was stored. It was awkward with a kid in one arm and another in his face again, refusing to be dissuaded from his line of questioning (lit. demanding). “Javi, make yourself useful. See that black grinder right there? Pull it out for me.” He nudged the detective towards the cabinet. “I promise you can give me the fifth degree to your heart’s content after I’ve had some morning juice.” Javier didn’t look very mollified, but he pulled out the grinder and handed it to the writer. 

There was no way Castle was going to successfully grind the beans with only one hand and he didn’t trust anyone else to do it correctly. It was an art, one in which he had carefully schooled himself. He had no choice but to set Kevin on the counter, which was probably bad parenting etiquette but the blond wasn’t really a little kid anyway. 

Javier stayed right by his side, playing the part of underfoot nuisance to perfection. Castle nearly tripped over him trying to retrieve the canister of coffee beans on the opposite counter. “Alright, people who can barely see over the countertops, out of the kitchen!” He grabbed the back of Javier’s shirt and pushed him towards Alexis. “Please keep him occupied for like five minutes.”

“Castle!”

“Richard.”

“Dad.”

“Everyone stop!” Castle rarely raised his voice, so to his immense relief, the loft actually fell silent. In the quiet, the sound of muted footsteps approaching the kitchen was audible. Five sets of eyes snapped around to look at Kate as she walked towards them. Castle immediately noticed her slightly pale face and puffy eyes. He would have felt relief that his girlfriend had arrived to take some of the attention off of him but her defeated demeanor only made him feel more helpless and frustrated. 

“You okay, Castle?” Kate asked. She stopped a few feet away, wrapping her arms around herself as if unsure what to do with them. 

“It’s a conspiracy to drive me mad before breakfast.” 

Javier rolled his eyes at Castle’s comment. He moved to his senior partner’s side, looking like a concerned friend instead of a vicious pest. It really wasn’t fair. There was a thud from behind him, causing Castle to spin around and his heart to stutter at the sight of a now toddler-free countertop. However, Kevin soon hurried around the side of peninsula to join Kate and Javier, so the fall must have not hurt too badly. 

Finally left alone, Castle set about making his coffee while keeping track of his guests out of the corner of his eye. Alexis also joined Kate and the boys, though Martha stayed with him in the kitchen. She, of course, already knew vaguely what the problem was. 

“Hey sweetie,” murmured Kate, cupping the side of Javier’s face and brushing her thumb across his cheek. She had knelt down so she was at his eye level. “Why are you trying to drive Castle crazy already?”

Javier reached up to take her hand in both of his. “We heard you yelling this morning and he refuses to tell us why.”

“Castle did say you received some bad news,” said Kevin. “He said you’d tell us. Have you been crying? Your eyes are red.”

“I was a little overwhelmed, but I feel better now.” Kate smiled at her Irish partner, though it looked forced. “Didn’t your sisters teach you not to comment on a female’s appearance if she’s not looking her best?” 

“Sorry.”

“Does it have to do with the Valduerez case?” Everyone knew that Javier wasn’t really asking about the murdered girl/woman. It was a roundabout, safe way to ask if it had anything to do with _them_. 

“Yes,” answered Kate, bluntly. She stood up and took a little hand in each of hers, leading the two be-spelled detectives towards Castle’s couch. She sat down at one end, waiting patiently while the two boys climbed up next to her. “Nora Bellefonte suffered a stroke last night.” Alexis gasped from where she had sat in one of the chairs, kitty-corner to the detectives.

“Did she die?” Javier coughed a bit to clear his throat after the question came out sounding strained. 

“No, but she’s cataleptic right now.” Kate brushed her hand over Javier’s dark hair. “They won’t even let me in to see her until this afternoon.”

“Will she recover?” Kevin clutched Javier’s upper arm as he leaned against his partner’s side. 

“It’s too early to tell. Even if she does, who knows if it will be before the month is out.” Kate closed her eyes for a long moment to bolster her nerves. “I’m so sorry I don’t know how to fix this.”

“It’s not your fault,” said Javier. He maneuvered to his knees so he could wrap his arms around her neck. Kate slipped her arms around his back and hugged him tightly, her cheek pressed against the side of his face. Alexis moved from her chair to discretely sit down next to Kevin and place her hand on his shoulder. 

Castle walked over with two steaming mugs of coffee. Martha followed him with one of her own and a cup of hot chocolate for Alexis. The younger redhead took it with a trembling smile. 

“So we just have to wait. I’m sure the month will go by quickly.” Kevin twisted the hem of his t-shirt nervously. 

“It’s gonna be a bitch, bro,” said Javier. He pulled away from Kate, who took advantage of his precarious balance to pull him fully onto her lap. She held him close in a sideways embrace. Castle wanted to smack the Cuban when he heard the dreaded sniffle from the younger detective. Castle set Kate’s coffee on the end table next to her so he had one hand free to reach for Kevin. The blond shied away from his touch. 

“I’m fine,” he said shakily. 

“It’s perfectly reasonable to be upset about this,” said Castle. 

“I’m not a baby!”

“Leave him alone.” Glare à la Javier was back. Well, Castle could look murderous, too. He set his fiery gaze on the younger man. 

“Stop,” said Kate quietly. She squeezed Javier as a muted reprimand. Castle unwillingly took a seat in the chair Alexis had recently vacated.

“What about Ms. Bellefonte’s son?” asked Alexis. “The one who was in the station yesterday. I though you said he practiced magic like his mother.”

“I wouldn’t trust him for anything,” said Kate. “He was angry enough that his mother was jailed. He’s going to be downright nasty now that she’s ill. I fear he’d just as soon make the situation worse than help us.” She jumped slightly when her phone started vibrating in her pocket. She adjusted Javier’s weight so she could shift around and pull it out. The number wasn’t associated with a name in her contact list, but it looked familiar. “Detective Beckett,” she answered. 

They all watched her face closely as she listened to the person on the other end of the line. Her posture straightened minutely and her expression smoothed as she became all business. “Thank you for returning my call, Mr. Bellefonte.”

“Speakerphone,” hissed Castle in a stage whisper. Kate shook her head and held up a finger as she continued to listen to the man speak. 

“Your mother was brought in for questioning due to her relations with one of my murder victims. She was arrested for conspiracy to poison two NYPD police detectives.” Kate let go of Javier completely so she could tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear opposite the phone. “They’re alive yes, but not well. How much do you know about the magic that your mother claims to practice?”

Castle smiled weakly at Alexis when she turned to look at him hopefully. He wanted to encourage warm fuzzy feelings in his daughter, but at the same time, he didn’t want to give her false hope. Why couldn’t Kate put the phone on speaker so they could all hear?

“She, uh, turned them into little children.” Kate cringed after admitting out loud what she still didn’t want to believe was possible. “She allegedly did the same to Serafina Valduerez, who was murdered Friday morning.” Kate held the phone away from her ear for a second as the man let out a loud string of expletives that could be heard without speakerphone. Once he calmed, she pressed the phone close again. “We’ve been in contact with your older brother, too. He was arrested for assaulting an officer, but made bail yesterday afternoon. Your mother was being held in a minimum security prison just outside of the city.” Three deep breaths while Bellefonte the Younger responded. “Mr. Bellefonte, your mother suffered a stroke early this morning. She’s at Saint Samuel’s in the ICU.”

…

“Yes, it sounds like she’s in stable condition, but unable to speak.”

…

“I don’t know if she was involved in Ms. Valduerez’s murder, just that she claims to have turned Valduerez into a little girl to help her relive her childhood. She poisoned the detectives when they tried to question her about the case.”

…

“One-thirty. Yes, I can meet you at the hospital then.”

…

“There may be officers at her house when you arrive. I had a warrant pulled to search the property for information about the poison. I haven’t heard that anything was found.”

…

“Thank you for your help, Mr. Bellefonte. I will see you this afternoon.” Kate ended the call and stared at the blank screen of her phone for nearly a full minute. Castle, along with four other very curious gawkers, stared at the female detective. Kate finally came back to herself with a brief shake of her head. She absently picked at a loose thread on Javier’s new sweatpants as she spoke. “Randy Bellefonte just returned from his mini-vacation upstate and started checking his voicemails. He’s going to swing by his mother’s house to do a little research on her spell-work before meeting me at the hospital.”

“What if he tries to destroy evidence while he’s there?” asked Javier. Apparently he didn’t like Kate picking at his pants, so he curled his little fingers around her larger ones. 

“I’ll call ahead and alert the unis to keep a close eye on him,” said Kate. 

“He indicated that he could help fix this mess?” asked Castle. 

“He said that he hasn’t touched magic for years but he knows some secret stashes in her house where she might have hidden information on this particular spell. From everyone we’ve talked to, it sounds like Randy and his family were equally disappointed in each other. I’m hoping he’ll be willing to work with us instead of against us.”

“How can Ryan and I help?” asked Javier. “Did you set up the remote access on Ryan’s work machine?”

Kate looked at him appraisingly. “You two can just hang on for a little bit longer,” she said eventually. “I really feel good about meeting the younger Bellefonte. I think we’ll have this reversed in no time.”

“You’re cutting us out? Haven’t we been through this very scenario enough times to know better by now?”

“Javi-”

“No.” Javier pushed himself away from her. He slid off her lap and the couch entirely. “Castle told us about the way you’re ‘coping’ with this by calling Ryan and I by our first names but I get the feeling you’ve forgotten that we’re not actually little kids.” He turned to look at Castle. “I don’t want to be referred to as Javier anymore.”

“Sweetie-”

“No pet names, either. Just Esposito.”

“Is ‘Espo’ okay?” asked Castle. Technically it was also a nickname, but as a derivative of his family name, he wondered if the Cuban would let that one slide. Truly, he was asking out of an honest want to know, but Javier interpreted it as trying to jerk him around.

“Are you serious?” He made a face that was very Grown Up Esposito and Castle didn’t enjoy the feeling of being chastised by someone only half as tall as he was. Well, maybe not only half as tall. Castle didn’t think he’d want to be topping out at eight feet, actually. He’d met a few professional basketball players and the issues they had to deal with due to their height made him glad to be only slightly taller than average…

“I’m not trying to cut you out,” said Kate, forgoing addressing him by any name at all. “Just let me see what Bellefonte says about the spell and we’ll go from there. Please?”

“Why are you against us helping you?”

Castle didn’t envy Kate for being in the crosshairs of Javier’s - well, Esposito’s - interrogation. Truthfully, he was kind of curious, too. Usually the female detective was pretty demanding of her team, writer included. Physical work aside, the two junior detectives seemed capable of doing their jobs. 

“I…” Kate floundered for a second, but found her composure quickly. “I’m just worried that there are side effects to this spell that we don’t know about and I’ll admit I’m feeling a little overprotective. Will you indulge me a little? If Randy Bellefonte can’t offer me a fix to this spell today, then we’ll talk about other options.”

“Then you’ll swing by Ryan’s apartment and get his laptop on your way back here tonight, right?” Javier sidled up closer to Kate now that he was getting what he wanted. Kate looked to the side briefly and Castle instinctively echoed her sight line. The little blond was staring at his lap, passively following the conversation and letting his partner do the talking for both of them. He looked absolutely miserable. Castle recalled that Grown Up Ryan hated it when his teammates fought, so Little Kid Kevin was probably wishing he were anywhere else at the moment. 

“Sure. Do you want anything else from your place, Ryan?” Kate reached over to her younger partner, but Kevin shrugged off her touch just as he had Castle’s. He responded with a minute lift of his shoulders and a barely audible sigh. 

“Even I think this has been enough drama for one morning,” said Martha, breaking into the detectives’ conversation bubble. 

“That is pretty bad, if Mother is feeling taxed.” Castle knew he felt drained. His coffee was not making things better like it should. 

“Richard, it’s time to feed the masses.” Martha waved towards the kitchen. “It’s no good being emotional on an empty stomach.”

“Pancakes?”

“No,” came the four part chorus. Castle doubted that Kevin’s lack of response indicated support of his suggestion. Vastly outnumbered, he decided that eggs and bacon sounded equally appetizing. Alexis jumped up to help him. Kate followed a few seconds later, leaving her boys in the living room. Martha promised to return shortly after making herself more presentable. 

Twenty minutes later, Castle was dishing out cook-to-order eggs and slices of thick, extra greasy bacon. He liked showing off his culinary prowess. Alexis was generous in her praise and Kate always appreciated a good meal. He hadn’t cooked much for the boys outside of the last day and a half, but from what he knew of their take-out bachelor diets, he could only imagine that they were equally impressed. 

“Kate?”

“Hm?” She looked up at him with wide hazel eyes and he smiled at how cute she looked with her cheeks puffed out as she chewed her food. 

“Is Kevin - sorry, Ryan - down by your feet again?” Javier had joined them when the food was ready, sitting between Alexis and Kate on the trio of barstools. She looked down briefly then shook her head negatively. 

“He went to get something out of the guest room,” said Javier. “He said he wasn’t hungry, so don’t make him anything.”

“He didn’t eat dinner last night, either,” said Castle. 

“You can’t force him to eat if he doesn’t want to.” Javier didn’t look thrilled about his partner’s new no-cal diet, but he was a big proponent of letting his partners make their own decisions.

“I’ll go talk to him,” said Kate. She set down her fork and started to slip off her barstool. Castle waved a hand at her. 

“Let me. You just eat the food I worked so hard to prepare.” Castle didn’t start for the back of the loft right away. He pulled a carton of milk from the refrigerator and retrieved the jar of honey from the cabinet. Hating the associated nickname didn’t mean Detective Ryan had given up his love of the warm beverage. Two minutes later, Castle marched for the trenches, armed only with a warm mug of milk and honey.

xXx

It was silly, but his first impulse after hearing the gentle knock on the guest room door was to hide. Kevin just wanted to be left alone. Even Javi’s comforting presence had become overbearing. The sound of knocking had come from too high up on the door for it to be his equally miniaturized partner, meaning it was someone he really didn’t want to deal with.

The only two decent hiding places in the room were under the bed and in the closet. Neither sounded appealing, nor would giving in to his desire to disappear help his and Javi’s bid to be treated like the adults they really were. Thanks to his indecisiveness, he was still seated on the bed when Castle barged in uninvited. 

“There you are.” The writer’s ability to observe the obvious was impressive. Kevin mentally rolled his eyes. “Esposito said you were just retrieving something, not hiding out.” Kevin had gotten strangely used to be addressed by his given name by the ‘adults’ in their group during the short time he’d been under the curse. The return to surnames was a little jarring, but Javi had made it perfectly clear his new stance on that. Kevin knew he was exempt - he’d been calling his partner Javier for almost a year now.

Castle walked to the side of the bed and sat down. Purposefully or not, the writer plopped down heavily, causing the mattress to bounce and Kevin to scramble to remain upright. His suspicion that Castle had intended to jar him was supported by the careful way the older man balanced his mug to prevent it from spilling. 

Kevin wasn’t as confrontational as his partner, though he had his moments. Slamming that shady undercover cop from narcotics into the wall of the Interrogation Room had been one of his shining examples of losing his cool. He preferred to deal with unwanted attention by giving his tormentor the cold shoulder in hopes that they’d lose interest. Fortunately for him, people tended to lose interest in an unassuming junior detective pretty quickly. 

Not Castle.

“I made you some honey milk.” Castle shoved the mug under his nose. It smelled wonderful. Kevin tried to recall every time the tag-along had called him Honey Milk in front of non-team members and it helped him resist the offering. Castle’s ability to wait patiently was blissfully short, so he only had to recycle his memories once. “Are you going to shut us all out every time something doesn’t go your way?”

Shut up, asshole. 

“Kevin… By the way, until you tell me otherwise, I’m going to keep calling you that, regardless of what your bully of a partner says.”

“Javi’s not a bully,” Kevin snapped. Oops. He scowled at the victorious grin Castle was surely sporting. He wouldn’t give the writer the satisfaction of actually looking up at him. He didn’t want to be comforted, he just wanted to wallow. His rekindled inner child warred with his hard-won (though maybe still a little lacking in some areas) maturity. The kid whose body he was trapped in wanted to throw a tantrum but his adult mind knew that would be counterproductive and embarrassing in the end. He’d suffered enough humiliation the night before after the Bath Incident.

“Kevin, you don’t have to pretend to be impervious to what’s going on. You’re going to make yourself sick if you keep holding everything back. I know you think it’s embarrassing to show any kind of emotion and we all know that you and Javier are trying your bests to act like everything is okay when really you’re terrified.” Castle set the mug aside. He ran his hand down Kevin’s back, then up again. The thin material of his t-shirt went along for the ride. 

Kevin inched away from Castle, breaking the contact. The writer was always so infuriatingly suave and unflappable, like life never gave him lemons. Who could blame him? He was good-looking, self-confident, successful, rich, and had a brilliant daughter and a beautiful girlfriend. It was easy for him to tell the vaguely dorky homicide detective to act like a little girl and cry about a stupid curse that wasn’t even permanent.

“Come on, talk to me, Kev,” said Castle. The man couldn’t take a hint. He reached for the detective again. 

Kevin twisted around to avoid the contact. He wondered how much longer the writer’s twelve-year-old attention span would last. Surely this had to be boring. Castle might consider himself friends with Beckett’s two favorite partners, but Kevin had never kidded himself that the man’s regard went much further than ‘the boys who work with the love of my life’ except for when he wanted something from them or their case landed them somewhere stupid like Atlantic City.

“All right, no more Mr. Nice Guy.” Castle snatched Kevin under the arms, much like he’d done earlier than morning in order to stave off Javier’s fury. Kevin instinctively flailed, trying to regain his upset balance. A heartbeat later, Kevin found himself trapped against Castle’s wide chest, his head tucked under the man’s chin. The writer manipulated their positions until Castle was leaning against the headboard with his legs straight out. Kevin’s legs settled on either side of the man’s hips and his annoyingly short arms were pinned against the man’s sides. Castle pressed Kevin’s head against his shoulder with one hand while his other arm wrapped snugly around the detective’s lower back. An experimental push confirmed that he was trapped, immobile in the man’s embrace. Stupid, weak, undersized kid body.

Castle started to talk. Kevin valiantly tuned him out. His ramblings didn’t make sense, anyway. The writer really just liked the sound of his own voice. His chest rumbled beneath Kevin as he continued to monologue. The steady beat of his heart under Kevin’s ear was almost loud enough to drown out the shower of words. 

Frustration at being trapped soon melted into a sense of unwanted security and comfort. Kevin didn’t want to feel safe in another man’s embrace. He was a big boy, an adult who’d seen and been through enough to know how to take care of himself and those around him. Unfortunately, the warm tracks of salty liquid leaking down his cheeks hadn’t gotten the message. At his shuddering breath, Castle tightened his hold briefly, if that was even possible. The leaky dam broke and the tears flooded over his still raw eye rims and cheeks. The only shred of dignity he managed to keep was that he cried silently apart from the intermittent rough exhale. 

Castle’s cheek rested on the crown of Kevin’s head. They stayed that way until Kevin’s breathing smoothed out and the rush of tears slowed. His eyes felt gritty and his eyelids puffy and heavy. The inviting thought of sleep drew him in, despite his only having been awake for less than two hours. Castle must have noticed his impending escape into unconsciousness. He loosened his hold and nudged Kevin back until he was drowsily straddling Castle’s lap with his arms hanging uselessly at his sides. 

“I want you to drink this, Kevin. And as soon as you wake up again, real food. No one is going to starve themselves under my watch, kapeesh?”

“I really don’t have an appetite right now,” mumbled Kevin. He slowly lifted the mug that Castle had pressed into his smaller hands to his mouth. He ignored Castle’s steadying grip on the bottom of the ceramic container. 

The drink had gone room temperature but it hadn’t segregated out so it was still palatable. Kevin kept his eyes downcast as the sweet flavor filled his mouth, focusing on the pattern of the pillowcase behind Castle’s shoulder. He drank half of the concoction before his stomach started to protest the volume of liquid. Kevin finally met Castle’s concerned gaze as he pushed the drink away, hoping to convey through body language alone that he couldn’t drink any more. Kevin’s brow furrowed when he saw the reddish tinge around the writer’s eyes and the questionable moisture pooling along his lower eyelids. Despite that, Castle didn’t look away. Whatever Castle read in his expression resulted in the mug being abandoned on the night stand and Kevin cradled securely in his arms again. 

As he drifted on the verge of deeper sleep, Kevin promised himself that _this_ was the last time he let the stupid curse get the better of him and force him to show weakness in front of his teammates.

xXx

Beckett brought a glass of orange juice into the guest room for Castle. The writer had never returned from checking on their partner, leaving Esposito and Beckett to clean up the kitchen while Alexis got a head start on preparing to return to Columbia. Martha had stopped by briefly to grab a yogurt, claiming that she needed to swing by her studio for a couple of hours. Esposito wondered if she was usually so scarce around Chez Castle or if being crowded out by half the 12th’s homicide squad was making her claustrophobic. He felt a little bad about his part in the arguing that morning, both with Castle and then Beckett. Still, someone had to stand up for him and Ryan.

Beckett made herself comfortable on the bed next to Castle, slouching a little so her face was level with Ryan’s. Esposito’s partner didn’t react to the proximity, leaving Esposito to deduce he’d managed to fall asleep, splayed across Castle’s chest as if the writer were a giant teddy bear. He didn’t begrudge the Irishman the comfort he seemed to find. Ryan had always been the sort to find affirmation through touch, whereas Esposito put the most stock into thoughtful gestures. Knowing each other so well explained why Esposito didn’t complain when Ryan leeched onto him in the middle of the night and how the secretly acquired video of Esposito’s bath time monologue had mysteriously vanished from Castle’s recorder. 

“How long ago did he go down?” Beckett ran the pad of her index finger down the bridge of Ryan’s nose.

“Just a few minutes.” Esposito pulled himself up onto the bed, moving to sit a few inches from Beckett. From there he could easily see that Ryan was out for the count. He could also see the haggard look that went along with the rough quality of Castle’s voice. His guilt at being a pain earlier pulsed again. Truthfully, Castle had really stepped up in a way no one expected him to. He wasn’t a fellow officer, or even more than an occasional hang-out buddy who owned a really sweet bar, but he’d brought Esposito and Ryan into his home without question and taken care of them while Beckett continued to work on the Valduerez homicide case. 

Not that Esposito needed taking care of, even in a six-year-old body. He could take care of himself and his partner. He just didn’t mind the help all that much. 

“Ugh.” Beckett shifted so she was lying on her side, still facing her boyfriend. She ran her hand down her face. “This is seriously going down as the worst. Case. Ever.”

“Seconded,” said Esposito. Beckett smiled wanly at him. She reached down to take his hand and pull him into the narrow space between the two full size adults. The repositioning caused him to inadvertently bump Ryan. The younger detective made a small sound of protest but remained asleep. 

“There’s still a few hours before you have to head to the precinct. Let’s just relax. We could all use a breather, I think,” said Castle. He adjusted his position as well, making sure to maintain his steady hold on Ryan. Beckett slipped her arms around Esposito, effectively sandwiching him in place. He wanted to protest being snuggled like a baby, but a bigger part of him liked the affection. He would deal with the fallout and re-establish his manly independence later. 

Speaking of permitting abnormally large amounts of affection… Beckett had been much more forthcoming with hugs and other physical displays to her partners since the change. Usually she reserved her rare PDAs for Castle. This all just confirmed to Esposito that Beckett was having as much trouble dealing with this as he and Ryan. While he liked to think he was above gullibility when it came to Castle’s extreme theories about their murder cases (unlike Ryan, who always gave Castle’s ridiculous ideas more thought time than they deserved), he did sometimes give the less crazy ones consideration. Beckett was resolute in believing that there was a logical explanation for everything and there were no supernatural beings or occurrences. Seeing her two partners turned into little kids had to have seriously rocked her view on the world. 

Esposito shifted uncomfortably. He’d never spent this much time in such close proximity to his team leader, whom he considered like a sister, and they were stepping over all kinds of unspoken boundaries. He was worried that even when the curse wore off, things wouldn’t go back to normal. Would they awkwardly remember moments like these when they were once again maintaining professional relationships at work? Even worse, would Ryan (and okay, maybe Esposito too, but definitely not to the same degree) get too used to being coddled and regret being full size again?

“You’re thinking too loudly,” complained Beckett. She unwrapped one arm from around his small frame so she could enfold his shrunken hand in her slender fingers. “I’m going to talk to Bellefonte this afternoon and he’ll know how to fix this. By tomorrow, you and Ryan will be back in your desks at the precinct, driving me crazy because you still behave like preschoolers even as adults.”

“Okay, first of all,” said Esposito, shifting so he could look Beckett in the eye, “I’m always more mature and sophisticated than writer-boy over here and you at least rate him a nine-year-old. Second, Ryan is the preschooler. I would be in elementary if this was real. Third, you’d drive yourself manic without Ryan and me to lighten the atmosphere once in a while.”

“Mature, maybe, but I refuse to give you sophisticated,” argued Castle. “I can be devastatingly debonair when I put my mind to it.”

“He does have his moments,” said Beckett. She smiled at her boyfriend in a sugary sick way that made Esposito regret not trying harder to make things work with Lanie. 

“I think I need to brush my teeth now.”

“Hush, you.” Beckett squeezed his hand. “For the record, I look forward to having my bestest detectives back at the precinct. I forgot how miserable grunt work can be and how much I like pawning it off on you two.” Esposito understood her real sentiment, so he decided to let her last comment slide. They slipped into a comfortable quiet. Eventually, the morning’s exertions caught up to him and Esposito joined his partner in sleep. 

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for the review and kudos! I realize that chapters five and six were probably kind of slow, so I’m pushing out seven ahead of schedule. Hopefully it was a bit more interesting. At least we get a brief glimpse into Ryan and Esposito’s thoughts. 
> 
> I know the Honey Milk reference pertains to Ryan’s relationship with Jenny in the show, but I couldn’t resist incorporating it into the story. Please forgive the break from the story cannon.


	8. Sunday Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Beckett gets some bad news and the guys do some investigating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Eight

Detective Kate Beckett hummed quietly to herself as she switched off the ignition of her patrol car and glanced around the parking lot of the hospital. What false hope she’d been clinging to all morning concerning Randy Bellefonte’s ability to undo his mother’s work was all but gone, having steadily faded as the meeting grew closer. 

The parking lot had a decent number of cars filling the closely spaced spots, but she appeared to be the only person in the vicinity. That suited her just fine. Beckett took a deep breath and informed herself that this case was about to be cracked wide open. Her star witness was going to come through in a big way and by this time tomorrow, she’d be laughing with her full-size partners about how silly they’d been for getting so emotional about everything. 

“Now, if only I could believe that.” The sound of her own voice seemed to echo forebodingly through the interior of the car. “Pull yourself together, Becks.” Beckett shook her head to clear the negative thoughts. She checked her hair and makeup in the visor mirror, then threw open her car door and stepped into the warm summer sun. Late June could always be counted on for nice days like the current one. 

Her heels clicked steadily as she crossed the pavement to the hospital entry. As she passed through the glass storefront, the cool air of the interior took a few seconds to adjust to. By the time she reached the nurse seated at the curved reception desk, the temperature felt comfortable.

“Detective Beckett, NYPD. I’m here to see Nora Bellefonte.” She flashed her badge at the comely woman in scrubs. 

“Yes, detective. She’s in room 305. The elevators are right around the corner.” The nurse jabbed her pen in the direction of a wide hallway. 

“Does Ms. Bellefonte currently have any other visitors?”

“Both of her sons.”

“Thank you.” Beckett hid her displeasure from the nurse at the news that Rayford was there. It didn’t really surprise her. The middle-aged man seemed a bit obsessed with his mother and would have been hard to keep away from her. Fortunately, it seemed the younger brother was there as well. 

The hallway and elevator smelled like hospital. She crinkled her nose in dislike. The smell reminded her of snipers and all the more recently, poisoned lemonade. She decided to invite Randy to join her somewhere less deathly for their interview. Beckett stepped off the elevator on the third floor and found the nurses’ stand immediately. She didn’t need to ask for directions to 305. Raised male voices carried from the room as the Bellefonte sons argued. Beckett made eye contact with the young nurse who silently begged her to do something. Rayford didn’t exactly respect police officers, but Beckett figured she could try to diffuse the situation. 

In the end, she didn’t have to. A handsome man with thick dark hair and a cappuccino complexion to match Esposito’s emerged from the room with hunched shoulders and a deep scowl. He looked enough like the two Bellefontes with whom Beckett was already familiar, so she didn’t need help identifying him. Of course, he didn’t recognize her at first, but the pasty man with dyed black hair who followed him out of the room, still cursing colorfully, did. 

“You!” Rayford shoved past his brother to march up to Beckett and shove a bony finger in her face. “This is all your fault, bitch!”

“Take a step back, Mr. Bellefonte,” said Beckett evenly. She forced all of her confidence forward, trying to appear intimidating so he would move away. It worked to a degree. 

“Detective Beckett?” asked the younger brother. His tired brown eyes were framed with thick lashes and set between well defined cheek bones and a perfectly sculpted brow. 

“Yes. Mr. Randy Bellefonte?” He nodded and his posture loosened slightly. Randy ran a hand through his wavy hair as he turned to face his brother. 

“Ray, get out of the detective’s way.”

“Shut up. She’s the one who put our precious mother in this hell hole.” Rayford’s eyes glinted in the fluorescent light and Beckett could see the manic in them. She had to consciously resist the urge to step away from him. 

“Because she made two police officers sick.”

“How dare you side with these _lemmings_.” Randy took a step back and wiped his hand across his smoothly shaved face to remove the spittle that had landed there as his older brother spat the last insult. “This is exactly why mother hated you.”

A hospital orderly and two security guards approached the trio then, shadowed by a nervous looking nurse. The larger of the two guards, dressed in his standard black uniform, spoke first. “Excuse me, gentlemen. You’re disrupting the patients and staff here. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“I will not.”

“If you don’t go quietly, I’ll arrest you.” The guard retrieved a set of steel handcuffs from his belt. Beckett raised an eyebrow. As far as she knew, this hospital didn’t employee full-time NYPD officers to wait idly for incidents like this to pan out. 

“I dare you to try,” hissed Rayford. The large security guard took a threatening step forward, reaching for his baton. Rayford’s bravado abandoned him. He pushed passed Beckett roughly to make the stairwell adjacent to the elevators. With one disturber of the peace gone, the guard turned to Randy.

“He’s with me,” said Beckett. 

“And you are?” The security guard looked down his nose at her with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Detective Beckett of the 12th,” she answered, showing him her badge. The guard dropped his arms and smiled sheepishly at her. 

“Of course, ma’am.” He casually returned the handcuffs to his utility belt. “Let me know if that rat comes back.”

“Thank you.” She winked at him as he and his fellow guard turned to leave. She wasn’t above pretending herself to have more authority than she really did to get unruly witnesses or suspects to cooperate. 

“Detective Beckett, I’m very sorry for this,” said Randy. “I usually try to behave with a little more class, but my family has a way of bringing out the worst in me.”

“I’ve dealt with your family myself. I understand.” Beckett had enough practice hiding bruises under carefully applied makeup that she was confident the evidence of her interaction with the older Bellefonte remained hidden. “How is your mother doing?”

Randy sighed and shifted his weight uncomfortably as he glanced down the hall towards room 305. “Honestly, it doesn’t look that good. She hasn’t woken up yet and one of the doctors worries that she’ll slip into a coma before nightfall.”

“I’m sorry.” Beckett was surprised that she honestly did feel bad for the man before her. He carried himself like someone who’d been through years of struggle and what little triumph he’d found in escaping his past was quickly fleeting as it all caught back up with him. 

“That’s kind of you to say,” said Randy. “After what they did… well, you’re a bigger person than I might be in your shoes.”

“How long have you been here, Dr. Bellefonte?”

“Please, call me Randy.” He flashed a timid smile of straight, pearly white teeth. “I’ve been here long enough to get into it with my brother, so about… five minutes?”

“Now that he’s temporarily scared away, did you want to go back in?” Randy nodded after a moment of hesitation. Together they re-entered room 305. 

Nora Bellefonte was the only patient in the room, though a bored looking prison guard sat in the uncomfortable corner chair. The old woman looked deathly pale in the narrow bed, but the heart rate monitor beeped steadily beside her, assuring Beckett that the witch still lived. Beckett approached the bed slowly so she could get a closer look. Randy waited a short distance away. She couldn’t tell if it was too difficult for him to see his mother looking so ill or if he truly despised her too much to get close. 

The deep wrinkles and creases that Beckett remembered seemed smoother now as Ms. Bellefonte slept. She hardly looked like the type to curse two innocent strangers, nor to be involved in the murder of a drug addict. Beckett knew better than to let appearances fool her but this was testing her reason. Even now she found herself doubting that Ms. Bellefonte was involved in her current mess.

Beckett took a step away from the bed and tore her eyes away from the old woman’s face. She took a deep breath and sought out Randy. He looked a bit worried at her reaction. The detective decided that she needed some air. There was no doubt that the witch had turned Ryan and Esposito into little kids. No. Doubt. “Can I buy you a coffee, Randy?”

“Sure.” He didn’t comment on her strange behavior as they made their way out of the hospital. They reached the visitor’s lot in silence, which Randy finally broke as they stood on the wide sidewalk and Beckett took a couple deep, cleansing breaths. “I’d offer to drive, but you probably know this part of the city better than I do. Let me grab something out of my car.” Beckett nodded. She walked over to her cruiser and waited patiently for Randy to pop the trunk of his BMW and pull out a worn leather-bound journal. He tucked the book under his arm and joined her in the unmarked police car. 

“Do you mind if I make a quick phone call, doctor?”

“Please,” he replied, gesturing towards the smart phone she held aloft. He turned to look out the passenger side window as Beckett skillfully navigated towards a local café. Even if he was trying to give her privacy, Beckett knew that he would be privy to her entire side of the conversation, so she promised herself to keep it short. She just needed to hear Castle’s voice for one minute. 

He answered just before the call went to voicemail. “Hello? You all right, Kate?”

“Hey Castle. I’m just leaving the hospital. Dr. Bellefonte and I are going to get coffee and talk about the case.” 

“Is he a whack-a-doodle like his mom and bro?”

Beckett laughed briefly. “No.” She grew more somber. “Ms. Bellefonte is still unconscious.”

“That’s not good. Bellefonte the Younger manage to give you any sort of cure yet?”

“We haven’t spoken about that, yet.”

“Please, take your time. My sanity is only partially shredded at this point.” Beckett smiled again. 

“Thank you, Castle.”

“I’m not sure what for, but you’re welcome.” She could feel the warmth in his tone through the phone. The axis of her world straightened slightly and it became a little easier to breathe. 

“I’ll call you again in a couple hours.”

“Good-bye.” Beckett ended the call and slipped the phone into her pocket. 

“’Castle’ wouldn’t happen to be Richard Castle, mystery-writer, would it?” asked Randy.

“It is,” admitted Beckett. “He’s been consulting with the precinct for a few years now.”

“Right. The Nikki Heat novels.”

“Have you read them?” asked Beckett. She glanced over at her passenger. 

“No, but I see the displays every time I go into a bookstore and I know that his main character is based off a real homicide detective,” said Randy. “I’m not much of a mystery person - I tend to stick to medical journals or biographies.”

They reached the café and Beckett thanked the traffic gods that she was able to find a spot easily. Apparently this part of town was less popular during the middle of the afternoon on a Sunday. They walked inside together. Randy still had the journal tucked under his arm. Beckett selected a booth in the corner which should offer them some degree of privacy while they spoke. The waitress brought Beckett a mug of the house coffee while Randy opted for a glass of iced tea and a small salad. He admitted to skipping lunch.

“I have a bunch of questions for you about your ex-wife, Serafina Valduerez, but I’d prefer to talk about that downtown,” said Beckett. 

“I understand. Being the ex-husband automatically makes me a suspect, right?”

“Not necessarily.” Beckett smiled uncomfortably. Ex-husbands did make good candidates for murder, considering most divorces turned pretty ugly by the end, especially when a lot of money was involved. “Dotting all my I’s and crossing all the T’s will ensure that Ms. Valduerez gets the justice she deserves.”

“Of course. But you have another case, one that you’re trying to solve off the record.” Randy smiled supportively at her. Beckett felt a small weight lift off her chest. She could tell that the doctor wanted to help her. Beckett nodded eagerly at him. 

“Okay, detective, you have to keep a lot of things in mind. First, I’ve been away from all this hocus-pocus for a long time and I’m a little rusty. Secondly, by the time I was ‘excommunicated’ my mother hadn’t been working such dangerous magic. She’s become a lot more daring recently. Thirdly, I’m not going to do anything that could potentially cause more harm than good.”

The weight slammed back down, joined by a few of its heavier friends. The fear that Randy Bellefonte wouldn’t be able or willing to help them weaseled back into her heart. She suddenly wished that Castle was with her.

“I take it you found something?” Beckett was proud of her voice for sounded steady and strong despite the frantic flutter of her heart. 

Randy nodded. He opened the journal to a marked page and turned it to be right-side up to Beckett. She reached forward and pulled the book towards herself. The cream colored page was filled with blue and black ink. Nora Bellefonte’s handwriting made her think of someone who’d been exposed to the careful calligraphy standards of the older generation but hadn’t quite put in the effort in to master it. Not only that, the shorthand was not in English. 

“This appears to be the spell that Mother used to turn Serafina into a child,” said Randy. He tapped on the top of the page. “Do you read Spanish, Detective?”

“Not as well as I would like,” she admitted. Esposito probably could have made sense of the mess of words.

“Well, what you’re looking at is a brief summary of the spell’s potion and the ingredients that go into it,” explained Randy. “Mother took her magic seriously and she kept good record of her work. In the margin are some of the negative side effects that she noted in Serafina.”

“There aren’t that many,” said Beckett. She made eye contact with the doctor. “That’s good.”

“For Serafina,” said Randy. His brow furrowed as he flipped forward a few pages. “It seems that Mother was trying to make the spell last longer. At first, Sera stayed small for about three weeks. Both the transformation and the return to normalcy sound pretty brutal. Nausea, stomach bleeding, migraines, etcetera.”

“Sounds about right.”

“Despite that, Sera wanted to be small and she was willing to go through the sickness. Mother notes that each time she returned to adult-size, the illness grew worse and lasted longer. In the long run, the spell would kill her.” Randy cleared his throat. “A moral person would have stopped there, but Mother and Rayford long ago abandoned any kind of personal responsibility to their fellow humans. So, she kept researching and trying new ratios of the active ingredients to make the spell last longer.” He stopped on a page dated about two weeks earlier. “Apparently, the recent go around should have kept Sera small for eight weeks.”

“Do you think this is what your mother gave to my detectives?”

“Ah, no,” said the doctor. “Of course, I haven’t seen them for myself, so I don’t know what exactly she did to them. But based on what she was researching since Sera’s last transformation, I think she may have found a stabilizing ingredient to make the spell last much longer.”

“How much longer?”

“Detective, I haven’t had time to study the spell myself and reason out how long I think the effects would last. All I know is what she was hoping to achieve. Magic is a lot of theoretical work and until you actually cast the spell, it’s impossible to know what’s going to happen. It’s a lot like medicine in that way.”

Beckett recognized hedging when she saw it. He wouldn’t answer her question directly because he thought she wasn’t going to like the answer. Unfortunately, any time frame longer than ten more seconds was going to make her unhappy, so he might as well just tell her. “How long, Dr. Bellefonte?”

He swallowed thickly and sat back in the booth. Nervously, he ran his hand through his tousled hair again. “I’m really sorry, detective.” She leveled one of her more dangerous glares at him. He turned to the last written page of the journal and pointed to a hastily scrawled word in Nora Bellefonte’s now familiar handwriting. “This translates literally to ‘forever.’ I think Mother thought she had found a way to make the spell permanent.”

_Para siempre._

Forever.

xXx

“Okay, I think we need to get out of the house,” said Castle. He pushed another forkful of reheated lasagna into his mouth and chewed slowly as he looked between his two small charges. Javier looked up from his half-touched plate curiously. Kevin echoed the maneuver, though he had barely eaten a quarter of his lunch. “What do you say to some detective work of our own?”

“What do you have in mind?” asked Javier. 

“Serafina Valduerez was on her way to Radiant Pines. Now, that’s an expensive little elementary school set in the heart of one of New York’s more affluent neighborhoods. How would a poor, drug-addled girl from upstate get into that school?”

“Maybe she was sneaking in?” 

“No, Beckett looked into that, remember? The school had Valduerez listed as a student there.”

“I was the one who checked out the school,” said Kevin. “All I did was confirm that she was listed in their directory. We never got as far as actually talking to anyone there before… this.” He motioned vaguely to himself and Javier. 

“So, let’s go do some investigating.” Castle grinned. “I can pretend to be a new homeowner who needs to locate a school for his young relations and you two can play the part of the young relations.”

“On a cloudy day, you might be able to pass Kevin off as one of your ‘relations’ but not me,” said Javier. 

“We’ll say that my sister married a prominent Hispanic lawyer and you take after your father. So I don’t look like a total creeper, we’ll hope that the admissions officer hasn’t had her prescription upgraded in a while and believes that Kevin is my kid.” Castle took another bite of his lasagna. 

“Why don’t we just repel off the side of the building with an acrobat from YouTube?” 

“Very funny, Javi. Besides, that’s my plan for breaking into the British Consulate, not a hoity-toity elementary school.”

“I’m up for doing a little sleuthing,” said Javier. The writer had thought the older detective would be easy to convince. Javier, who had graciously forgiven him and re-instated first name privileges, had seemed on the verge of cabin fever since waking from their impromptu nap. 

“Kevin?”

“Beckett will say no.”

“Bro, you need to relax a little,” complained Javier. “Where’s the Kevin who went against both Beckett and Captain Gates to track down Ben Lee?” Castle grinned to himself at the memory. He still had the picture of the boys in their ‘college’ getups, which he looked at when he needed a quick pick-me-up. 

Kevin frowned at Javier. “I’m not saying no. All I’m saying is that Beckett won’t like it.”

“So? If she gets mad, she’ll take it out on Castle anyway.”

“I’m sitting right here,” said Castle. He waved his fork threateningly at Javier. The Cuban just smiled innocently at him. As a six-year-old, he did innocent fairly convincingly. It wasn’t fair. “What do you say, Kevin?”

“Fresh air sounds good to me.” The blond pushed his plate away and settled back on his heels.

“Nuh uh.” Castle reached over and pushed the plate back towards the younger detective. “If you don’t eat at least six more bites, our next stop after the school is going to be the pediatrician for advice on toddler nutrition.”

Kevin looked a little green but he obediently picked up his fork again. Castle watched him critically as he lifted the first bite to his mouth and eventually swallowed it. Javier apparently found a little more of his appetite as well. He returned to eating with renewed energy. 

Three small forkfuls later, Castle relented and picked up Kevin’s plate. He also collected his own and Javier’s, which he deposited in the sink to be cleaned later. “Go find something nice to wear,” he instructed the boys. “I know Martha got you each a pair of dress pants and collared shirts.”

“Too bad she didn’t find a sweater vest in size 4T,” said Javier as he slipped out of his seat. 

“Shut up.” Kevin chased his partner down the hall towards the guest room. Castle shook his head and decided to tend to the dishes immediately. He scraped the Italian into the garbage disposal and loaded all of the dirtied dishes and cookware into the dishwasher. After a brief wipe down with a damp rag, he declared the kitchen good enough and went to find his own undercover outfit. 

An hour later, the three males stood in front of the thick oak doors of Radiant Pines Primary School. Castle could see his reflection in the dark glass of the door lite, beyond which stretched a posh hallway, lit only by the sunlight streaming in from the tall windows along the north wall. 

“Good job, Castle,” said Javier sarcastically. 

The writer squeezed the little hand clasped in his own larger left hand. “I don’t recall either of you geniuses mentioning that the school is probably closed on Sunday, either.”

“So now what?” asked Kevin from Castle’s other side. 

Castle looked around hopefully for anything that would make their trip down there worthwhile. All he could see was a semi-public playground across the street where a few families from the neighborhood were spending the sunny afternoon. “Let’s go over there. I always think better on a swing.” His mind traveled briefly to Kate. He knew that she was fond of the idle movement of a swing while she mused on her latest case or various personal problems. 

Between the school and the playground was a pretty busy street. Actually, the park was located in the middle of a very wide roundabout. The protected crosswalk over to the central island was on the far side of the traffic circle. Castle decided that traffic wasn’t _so_ bad. He and Javier could probably dart across without too much trouble. “Think we can make it, Javi?”

“Castle…” Kevin eyed the writer distrustfully. The cars zipped past them regularly. 

“Come on,” said Castle as he lifted the smaller boy up onto his hip. “I’m sure you’ve got plenty of your Irish luck left.” A gap in the cars opened up just then and Castle made his move. He grabbed Javier’s hand and dragged the detective into the street. 

“Going to kill you,” Kevin promised as Castle jogged across the pavement. He wrapped his arms around Castle's neck tightly, nearly choking the writer. Javier had to practically sprint to keep up, but they made it without incident. Once they were safely on the grass, Castle shared an adrenaline fueled grin with Javier as the detective panted briefly to catch his breath. Kevin squirmed to be put down, which Castle allowed, practically dropping the toddler the short distance to the ground. 

“Come on, I see some open swings over there,” said the writer. He led the way across the grassy area and into the woodchips that surrounded the various play structures. A couple of the nannies, watching their own charges dart about the area, smiled faintly at the handsome gentleman as he passed them. He returned their looks with a charming smile of his own. A second later, pain shot up his leg from his knee where one of his devil-spawned charges had hit him. 

“Stop flirting,” ordered Javier. His no-nonsense scowl reminded Castle of Beckett and the reason he shouldn’t be flirting in the first place. Still… ouch! 

“Go push your cousin on the swings,” hissed Castle. He shoved Javier towards the set, where Kevin was already inspecting one of the wood seats and plastic covered chains. The boy jogged over to his partner while Castle limped exaggeratedly towards the closest bench. His phone started belting out Beckett’s ringtone. He struggled to pull it from his pocket but managed to hit Talk before he missed the call. 

It was good to hear her voice. Unfortunately, she was still with Bellefonte the Younger, so he couldn’t tell her how horrible her junior partner was and how badly his knee ached. Actually, he couldn’t even really feel it anymore, but no one else knew that. 

Kate sounded upset. He instantly grew concerned and his gaze snapped to the two shrunken detectives who appeared to be in the midst of setting up a competition of sorts. However, whatever had bothered the female detective didn’t sound like it related to her boys. Castle made a mental note to ask her about it when they had some privacy. For now, he tried to cheer her up. It seemed to work and she hung up with him sounding more like herself. He slid the phone into his pocket and returned to watching the boys try to pump themselves to higher heights. 

Someone who smelled very nicely of vanilla and lavender sat next to him. Castle looked over at the woman who appeared to be in her early thirties and was quite comely. Her carefully styled dark blonde hair was a little disheveled from the wind but the look suited her. Castle hoped that motherhood looked as good on Kate as it did this stranger. “Hi, I’m Ellen Rath,” she said, holding out her hand. Castle shook it.

“Rick Rodgers,” he offered, deciding to keep up the ruse they would have used had the school been open. 

“Yours?” she asked, looking towards the swing set where the detectives had managed to get themselves quite high.

“The blond. The other one belongs to my sister.” 

“I don’t mean to question your parenting techniques, but isn’t your son a little small to not use a bucket seat?”

“Um… He’s fine,” stuttered Castle. “He’s practically grown up on swings. He’d be a pro by now if there was such a thing… or if little kids could be professionals at anything.” He could have smacked himself for sounding like an idiot who didn’t know what he was doing. Ellen simply chuckled quietly.

“Let me guess, you don’t get the kids much? Does your ex have custody most of the time?”

“My ex?”

“I, ah, noticed you’re not wearing a ring,” she admitted. “Sorry, I’m awful about butting into other people’s personal business.”

“It’s okay. You’d make a good detective.” She smiled thankfully at him and he couldn’t help but return the look. “Where are your offspring?”

“My daughter Mia is over on the slide,” said Ellen. “It’s her favorite.”

“Is she as good at the slide as my boy is at the swings?”

“Possibly. She is serious about that slide.” Ellen tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear that was fluttering in her face. “You don’t look familiar to me. Are you new to the neighborhood?”

“Yes, actually. Moved in a few days ago. My, um, sister and her husband have been helping me get adjusted. Gina, my ex-wife, had a last minute board meeting and the nanny is sick so I am in charge of Kevin today. Lanie kicked me out of my own house, telling me to go exploring with the kids so she could actually get some work done.”

“I thought so. You know, there is a crosswalk over there, so you don’t have to play Frogger with traffic to get here.” Ellen pointed towards the stripped walk on the far side of the island. 

“So you saw that exemplary example of parenting, too.” Castle felt a blush creep up his neck. He wasn’t sure why having all his mistakes pointed out to him was embarrassing. After all, the boys weren’t really kids.

“You’ll learn,” she said. She patted his arm encouragingly. “How old are they?”

“Um, four and six. They’re pretty good kids, usually… What the _fuck_?!” He shot up off the bench and didn’t even register if Ellen was offended by his slip as he sprinted towards the swing set. His two charges had just shot off their respective swings at the top of their forward arcs and gone flying across the mulch to land in crumpled heaps near the edge of the grass. He could already imagine the gasping sobs as the pain of multiple broken bones registered with the two idiots who were… _arguing about who had landed further from the play piece_. 

“Bro, I totally beat you by like a foot,” said Javier.

“You’re taller than me, so what should count is how close your feet are to the swings, not your head,” argued Kevin. “I obviously won.”

“There is no way you jumped further than me.”

“There’s only one way to settle this. Again?” Javier nodded resolutely. Both were airborne before they could push themselves off the ground, hoisted into the air by the backs of their shirts and shaken roughly by an enraged writer.

“What in the hell were you two thinking?” demanded Castle. 

“What?” asked Javier. 

“Why would you jump off a perfectly good swing and give me a heart attack?”

“What?”

“Shut up, Javi. That is not cute.” Castle put them back on the ground so he could take each of their hands and march them towards his bench where Ellen still sat, her eyes glistening with tears of laughter as she tried to hide her amusement. “Sit,” he ordered, pointing Javier to the far end of the bench. He picked Kevin up and settled the blond on his lap, since the bench wasn’t really big enough for all four of them. 

“Hi,” said Ellen, smiling warmly at the captive detective. “Kevin, right? My name is Ellen. Your daddy told me that he just bought a house in the neighborhood.”

Castle held his breath as Kevin stared at the woman with wide blue eyes that acutely portrayed his confusion. To Castle’s immense relief, the detective recalled their cover story for the school admission officer and his round face smoothed out as he slipped into his role. “I jumped further than Javi.”

Ellen broke out into musical laughter as Javier exclaimed, “You did not!” from the other side of Castle. “It doesn’t matter who jumped further,” said Castle. “You’re both in so much trouble. I’m going to tell Beckett about this and you’ll never be allowed to leave the loft again.”

The evil duo did not seem fazed by his threat. Instead, Javier leaned over so he could have a clear view of his partner’s face, as well as the charming mother who had made a point to critique his parenting. “Why, who is Beckett, Kev?”

Kevin grinned widely. “Daddy’s girlfriend.”

Castle hated them so much. Really, they lived to make his life impossible. What had he ever done to the two of them to deserve this?

Ellen, predictably, sat up a little straighter and smoothed down her linen slacks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were seeing anyone.” She looked towards the slide, responsibly making sure that her daughter was still safe. 

“How could you have known?” Castle tried to pull back on his charming façade. These two hooligans were completely cramping his style. “Yes, her name is Katherine, but she still lives and works up north.”

“I see. What do you think of Miss Katherine, sweetie?” She looked expectantly at Kevin. 

“She’s too good for him.” 

“Ouch,” said Castle. “You’re supposed to be on my side, son.” He discretely dug his fingertips into the toddler’s side. Kevin bore the discomfort stoically, unwilling to give up his game. 

“Sorry, Daddy.”

“Can we go home now?” asked Javier. He tugged on Castle’s sleeve. The writer looked down at him. He knew that Javier didn’t like pretending to be a little kid, nor Castle having any kind of social life outside of the 12th. 

“No.” Take that, brat. “Your mother made it very clear I’m not allowed to bring you two back until two hours have passed. It’s only been forty-five minutes.” Javier scowled in a way that six-year-olds probably didn’t learn for another five to ten years. 

“My mother also said not to talk to strangers.”

“Well, that’s because you’re about four feet tall, midget. I can talk to whomever I want.”

“They’re very precocious,” said Ellen. 

“I read to them a lot. I dabble in writing in my free time.” He bounced his knee when Kevin pretended to yawn widely, jarring the detective back ‘awake.’ 

“What do you write?”

“Mysteries,” said Castle at the same time Javier offered, “Explicit adult content.”

“Oh my.”

“I hope you like soap because that’s what you’re having for dinner, Javi.” He wiped the glare from his face as he turned to look at Ellen again. “Sorry, kids. What can I say?” 

“Don’t worry, Mia says some pretty funny things, too.” Speaking of, the little girl abandoned her slide and came running over to her mother’s side. She was a pretty thing, with blonde hair halfway between Kevin’s pale locks and her mother’s darker hue. When she started to talk hurriedly to her mother, Castle could see that her two front teeth were missing. He guessed that she was about seven, given that she was a little bigger than Javi. 

Ellen interrupted Mia’s rapid story-telling to introduce her to Rick Rodgers and his charges. Mia obediently said hello to the three males before resuming her story about what the other children had just done. Ellen assured her that the others were just being typical children and Mia should let them be. The girl didn’t seem entirely convinced, but she returned to the playground nonetheless, seeking out her playmates once more. 

“Javi, do you and Kevin want to join Mia? That is, of course, if time out is over?” She looked expectantly at Castle. 

“Um, sure.” The writer looked down at the two detectives. “Go play. But do not, under any circumstances, challenge anyone else to more hare-brained circus stunts.”

“Don’t want to,” argued Kevin. He dropped his head against Castle’s sternum. 

“Don’t be shy,” said Ellen. “They’re all very nice children. Mia goes to school with most of them. In fact, they go to that school right over there.” She pointed towards Radiant Pines.

“Your daughter attends Radiant Pines?” Castle sat up a little straighter. He could sense the two detectives perk up as well. 

“Yes, she loves it there.”

“That’s good to hear. Javier will probably transfer down here in the fall. My sister is going to stay with me for a while as I get back on my feet from the divorce. She knows another family whose daughter attends Radiant Pines. Maybe you know her? Serafina Valduerez?”

“Oh.” Ellen pursed her lips as if she had something not very nice to say, but didn’t want to speak ill of anyone’s friends. “Mia played with a girl named Serafina for a short time. I felt bad for the child, but she wasn’t the sort I wanted playing with my daughter.”

“How so? Don’t worry, Lanie didn’t say she was friends with the family.” 

“Excuse me,” said Javier, looking up suspiciously at Castle. “Your sister’s name is ‘Lanie’?” In his lap, Kevin snickered.

“Yes, well, you might call her ‘mama’ but she has a grown up name, too.” Castle cleared his throat and turned away from the invisible daggers shooting out of Javier’s eyes. “You were saying about Serafina Valduerez?”

“My understanding is that she was adopted,” said Ellen. “A nice older couple had taken her in a couple months ago and she started attending Radiant Pines not long after that. It sounds like Serafina came from a troubled background, which probably explains her poor behavior.”

“Like jumping off swings and purposely trying to embarrass people?”

“Not quite. Mainly she stole things.” Ellen frowned. “She even stole a bracelet from Mia once. Granted, it wasn’t anything special - just a circle of cubic zirconium that you can get at the mall for about ten dollars. One time she stole a set of real pearl earrings out of her teacher’s desk. They were recovered and Serafina was allowed to stay, given her circumstances. Still, most of the parents won’t let her come play at their houses.”

“Wow, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Did she ever steal anything besides jewelry?” asked Kevin. Castle guessed that the mini detective was desperately missing his little notepad and pen. He imagined the toddler taking notes during an investigation and had to bite his lip to keep from smiling. 

“Trinkets, food, minor stuff I guess,” said Ellen. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she becomes a kleptomaniac at some point.” If she was waiting expectantly for the typical ‘what’s a klep… klepto… what’s that?’ from either of his kids, she was doomed to be disappointed. If they were going to have to maintain this charade for any extended period of time, Castle would ask his mother to give to boys acting lessons on how to portray convincing little kids. 

“Did she ever steal anything from Mia besides the bracelet?” asked Javier. 

“I don’t believe so,” said Ellen. “After that, Mia didn’t want to spend time with her anymore.”

Castle’s cell phone started to ring again. Both boys would recognize Kate’s special ringtone, so they looked at him expectantly when the familiar notes slipped out of his pocket. He offered an apologetic look to Ellen as he fished out the vibrating device. It slipped from his fingers when Kevin shifted unexpectedly, upsetting his balance briefly. The phone landed in Javier’s lap. The Cuban detective deftly slid off the bench and answered the call, dodging out of Castle’s reach. 

“Hi, Beckett!”

“Give me the phone, Javier!” Castle dumped Kevin in Javier’s vacated spot and launched himself across the park for the second time in less than thirty minutes, giving chase as the six-year-old held his phone captive. 

“We’re at the park near Radiant Pines Primary School,” Javier told the senior detective. “Castle is flirting with the single moms.”

“You are going to regret this,” promised Castle. The tips of his fingers brushed the cotton of Javier’s shirt as the detective evaded capture.

“Investigating Serafina Valduerez. Yes, yes, we’re being safe. The school isn’t even open, but we met a lady in the park whose daughter was playmates with mini-Sera until the vic went klepto and starting stealing stuff.”

“Stop running from me.” Really, how hard should it be to catch one little kid? Javier was slipperier than an eel. His military training was obviously being put to bad use. 

“What’s wrong, Beckett?” Javier stopped running, giving Castle the chance to scoop him up. Castle immediately noted the concern on the younger man’s face as he listened closely to whatever Kate was telling him. He didn’t even struggle as Castle carried him back towards the bench where Kevin waited nicely with Ellen. Halfway back, Javier frowned at the phone but held it up to Castle’s ear. 

“Kate, you okay?”

“Yeah, I just need a minute,” she replied. “What’s going on over there?”

“Chasing down my phone,” said Castle. “Your boys are terrorists, for your information. You might want to let Homeland Security know.” 

“Javi mentioned you’re down near Valduerez’s school. Can I meet you somewhere nearby in fifteen?”

“Sure. Are you really all right, Kate?”

“I just need to see you, Castle. Isn’t there an ice cream parlor a couple blocks from the school?” 

“That bad? Yeah, I know what shop you mean.” The call waiting started beeping in Castle’s ear. “Kate, hold on, I have another call coming in. One second. Javier, switch the lines.” The detective did as requested. By then, Castle had reached the bench and was able to set Javier down and take the phone for himself. “Mother, how nice of you to call.”

“Richard, someone broke into the loft! The whole place has been torn apart.” Castle could hear the genuine fear in his mother’s voice. He felt his own panic flutter in his chest. He was so glad that Alexis had headed back to Columbia shortly before he and the boys had started out for the south side. 

“Get out of there and call the police,” he instructed. 

“I am calling the police.”

“As flattering as that is, I’m not actually the police and no, the boys don’t count at the minute.” He ignored Ellen’s confused look at his strange comments. Kevin and Javier stared at him in concern. “Go wait in the lobby and call 9-1-1. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Okay, Ricky. Please hurry.”

“I will, Mother. I’m hanging up with you now so you can call the police.”

“Bye, darling.” Castle switched back to Kate’s line. 

“What’s going on, Castle?” She sounded a little better than before. Going into cop mode had a way of helping Kate put aside her own worries to focus on the task at hand.

“Someone tossed the loft,” he said briefly. He motioned for Kevin and Javier to get up and start walking towards the crosswalk. On one of the side streets he could see a few idling taxis. He held the phone to his shoulder so he could give Ellen a brief explanation for his sudden departure. “My mother’s apartment was robbed. It was nice to meet you, but I have to run.”

“Of course. I hope everything’s all right.” 

“Thanks.” Castle followed the boys, prodding them to move a little faster. “You still there, Kate?”

“Yes. Was that the lady Javi told me about?”

“Yes and no. I’ll explain later. Change of plans? Can you meet me at the lobby of my building?”

“Of course. Are Alexis and Martha okay?”

“Yes, they’re fine.”

“I’ll see you there as soon as possible.” Castle ended the call and slipped his phone back into his pocket. With both hands now free, he grabbed the boys by the hand and started a brisk pace that little Kevin could barely keep up with. Still, he managed to stay on his feet and bravely didn’t complain as Castle practically dragged them towards the line of taxis. He wrenched open the door of the first one and pushed Javier inside. He gave the driver the address to his building as he climbed in himself and pulled Kevin in last. 

“I have a car seat in the trunk,” said the cab driver as he watched Castle hastily pull the belt around Kevin. 

“It’s fine, I’ll hold onto him,” said Castle. “Please hurry. My mother is in trouble.”

“Did you call the police?”

“Yes, they’re already on their way.”

“Are you sure you don’t want the car seat? You really shouldn’t let small children ride without one.”

“Just go!” Castle ripped out his wallet and waved a Benjamin at the driver. “We’re fine back here.”

“Okay, man, but don’t say I didn’t tell you.” The driver finally pulled away from the curb, one hundred dollars happier. Kevin wrapped his little arms around Castle’s forearm, which was braced across his body as Castle gripped the door handle tensely. 

“Hey, Castle, calm down,” said Javier, pressing against the writer’s other side. “You said Mrs. R was safe. The cops will do their job and figure this out.”

“I’d feel better if it were my cops working the case,” said Castle in a low voice. 

“Unless someone was murdered in there, you wouldn’t get us, anyway,” said Javier. “But hey, maybe you’ll get Demming.”

“Not. Helping.” 

_to be continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, another excessively long chapter. I’m going to run out of story before too long. I hope it was entertaining. Thank you so much to everyone who has taken the time to review and send kudos. Your responses inspire me to keep writing.


	9. Sunday Evening - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the group reacts to Castle's home invasion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Nine

Kate Beckett was the third to the lobby of Castle’s posh building. Martha, of course, had been first and the numerous police officers, belonging to the cruisers outside, also loitered about the lobby. She had counted three marked cars, all with their blue and reds flashing, when she walked up to the building from the direction of the nearest subway stop. 

The aging actress marked her quickly and waved her over. Beckett didn’t hesitate to join Martha, who energetically described the state of the loft. Beckett surmised that there must already be some uniforms upstairs, clearing the loft before the rest of the officers and robbery detectives headed up. According to Martha, she had noticed that the apartment had been tossed the second she opened the front door. Furniture had been knocked over, papers were strewn about, and no small amount of broken glass and ceramic littered the floor. Beckett sincerely hoped that nothing of truly great value had been broken but knowing the family like she did, any loss would be mourned. 

“Did you notice anything missing?” asked Beckett when Martha finally paused to regain her breath.

“I didn’t even look. As soon as I saw the mess I called Richard. I followed his sage advice and came back down here to call the police.”

“Ma’am, they should be finished shortly and we can look around to see if anything is missing.” A uniformed officer stood politely a few feet away with his radio in hand.

“Sure, sure.” Martha waved her hand flippantly near the side of her head. “I’ll be over there.” She started walking towards the set of glass doors that would gain her access to the busy sidewalk. Beckett followed her, guessing that the older woman needed company more than Beckett needed to sate her desire to investigate. 

People had started to gather and gawk, whispering amongst themselves about what had drawn out the NYPD in such numbers. Beckett found herself wondering the same thing but then realized that the local precinct would be aware that it had been Richard Castle’s apartment ransacked. It would also know about the writer’s close friendship with the mayor. In order to escape the crowd, the two ambled down the street until they were beyond the double parked police cruisers and most of the pedestrians. 

A yellow taxi screeched to a halt in the middle of the street a few yards behind them. Beckett whipped around to find the reason. A few seconds later, the passenger side rear door flew open, allowing a small blond boy and his slightly taller Hispanic companion to slip out. The detective realized that Castle must have noticed his girlfriend and mother on the sidewalk and requested the last second stop. 

“Hey, boys,” she greeted. The two miniaturized detectives hurried over to them, slipping easily between the parked cars. 

“Hi, Beckett,” replied Kevin. Javier offered her a brief head nod before asking after Martha’s well-being. 

“I’ve been better, darling, but don’t think I haven’t handled much, much worse. Thank goodness no one was home when that conniving thief snuck it and made a mess of everything,” said Martha. Beckett finally saw Castle emerge from the taxi. He slammed the door shut and tapped the roof twice in farewell. He approached the waiting group briskly. 

“Mother, are you all right?”

“Yes, I was just telling Javier that this is barely worth fretting about.” Beckett feared to see what the woman was like when something was worth fretting over. She seemed shaken enough to the detective. “Come here, boys, tell me about your afternoon.” Martha motioned for Beckett’s colleagues to join her on the grassy side of the walk. Castle and Beckett hovered near the curb. 

“Have you had a look yet?” asked Castle. 

“No, I’ve only been here long enough to meet your mother and walk down this way,” replied Beckett. “They weren’t done clearing the loft yet. Maybe they’re done now.”

“Let’s walk back.” Beckett nodded. She slipped her hand into Castle’s as they started back up the street. Martha and the boys followed a few steps behind them. Since Castle was uncharacteristically quiet - though probably not for one who’d just suffered a home invasion - she listened in on the enthusiastic description Javier was giving Martha about how much further he’d catapulted himself from a swing set than his partner. Kevin insisted that Javier was spinning yarns and that he had actually landed furthest out. Beckett smiled faintly, her eyes growing watery, as she listened to the high pitched child voices. She imagined that their good humor would sour rapidly after she relayed what she’d learned from Randy Bellefonte.

“Sounds like you had an exciting day,” she said softly to Castle.

“They are determined to drive me mad,” said Castle. “Alexis never pulled stunts like that.”

“Well, they are males and two, Alexis sounds like she was a pretty mature little girl.”

“Why couldn’t the Hex-man have turned her back into a kid?”

They came up on the crowd near the still-flashing cruisers. The chatter behind her instantly stopped, causing Beckett to glance behind herself. Both of her partners were slowly backing away with wide eyes. “What’s wrong?” she asked. 

“We know some of those cops,” said Javier. “They’ll recognize us.”

“I doubt anyone will draw the connection,” said Beckett. “Who would ever guess that you two have been cursed like this?”

“Even still…” Kevin gravitated towards his partner, looking around warily at the crush of spectators and cops. 

“Mother, why don’t you take the boys and check out a hotel suite for the night?” suggested Castle. He reached for his wallet and pulled out a shiny silver credit card. His somber expression slid into a deep frown as he glanced across the street. “That guy over there doesn’t look creepy or anything.”

“Who?” Beckett turned and looked in the direction Castle was facing. It didn’t take her long to locate the single man hovering suspiciously near a tree on the other side of the road. He did seem inordinately interested in the on-goings at Castle’s building, but that’s not what caused Beckett’s heart to jump into her throat. The greasy black hair and artificially pale complexion of the man were familiar to her. As if confirming her identification of the man, the bruise on her cheek tinged briefly. 

“Do you think he’s the one who broke into the loft?” asked Martha. 

“Worse,” said Beckett. She shrugged out of her light suit coat quickly and dropped it over Kevin’s head. He didn’t have a chance to protest before she lifted him into her arms and guided his head to her shoulder, making sure the coat fully covered his upper body and head. “That’s Rayford Bellefonte.”

“Shit.” Castle seemed to understand her sudden desire to hide her boys and disappear into the crowd. She’d told him about the older brother’s threats towards the currently handicapped detectives and how she absolutely did not want the man to come in contact with Kevin and Javier. Castle was just in his shirt sleeves since the weather was nice. He did the next best thing he could by taking Javier’s hand and positioning himself between the youth and the peeper. 

Beckett led the push through the crowd. She apologized to those that she rudely bumped as she made for Castle’s building but that didn’t stop her from roughly shoving aside the next gawker who got in her way. Dozens of thoughts rampaged through her mind, all focused on how Rayford Bellefonte had located Castle’s building and why he was casing the area. She hated jumping to conclusions but she strongly felt that he was the one who broke in, looking for something to do with her. Or, looking for someone. She checked that her jacket still shielded Kevin completely.

A few yards in front of her, she could see the glass doors to the building. The distance seemed insurmountable, despite her crossing it in the space of a heartbeat. She pushed open the door, barely waiting for the gap to widen enough to fit through as she crossed the threshold. The sleeve of her coat caught on the door handle and was torn away as Beckett’s momentum carried her into the relative safety of the lobby. She turned to reach for it but Castle had already grabbed it on his way in. 

Beckett hurried towards a vacant bench on the far wall. Her trajectory was interrupted by a hand on her elbow. She turned quickly to see who had accosted her. Fortunately for Detective Demming, she recognized him in time to stop her fist from connecting with his face. 

“Kate, are you all right?”

“Yes, fine,” she answered a bit breathlessly. “You’re working this case?”

“I have a personal interest in it,” he replied. “Since there’s no word of any dead bodies, I’m guessing you’re here since you’re still an item with Castle?” She’d broken up with him nearly two years ago but he still kept a small candle lit for her in his heart. 

“Yes.” She wanted to end this conversation. To her dismay, Demming seemed determined to make up for lost time. 

“Who’s this?” He reached towards Kevin, though he stopped short of actually making contact. Curiosity and an insatiable desire for attention had prompted the toddler to twist in Beckett’s arms so he could see the robbery detective. Beckett worried her bottom lip and frantically searched for an answer to his question. Demming studied the blond boy closely, his brow furrowing minutely. 

When his intuitive gaze slid sideways towards where Castle, Martha, and Javier were grouped, Beckett blurted out the only semi-plausible excuse she could think of. “He’s one of Castle’s relations. Castle has family in town right now.”

“I see. What’s your name, kiddo?” Of course, Kevin wouldn’t actually _talk_ to the other detective, so Beckett once again scrambled for an answer. 

“Seamus.” She immediately mentally kicked herself. The blatantly Irish name would be fine in any situation where she wasn’t trying to create distance between her detectives’ two identities. 

“Huh.” Beckett cringed at the skepticism in his tone. “A relation of Castle, you say? If you ask me, he’s a dead ringer for Detective Ryan.”

She appreciated that he kept his voice low. He knew… what he knew was probably still a mystery to the man, but he knew he was somehow looking at a child that he last remembered seeing as an adult. However, knowing this also meant he understood her desire for subterfuge. “What happened, Kate? The official story at the precinct is that some suspect tried to poison Detectives Ryan and Esposito and they were recovering at home.”

“I can explain, but somewhere much more private.” She pleaded with her eyes and he capitulated. 

“Fine.” He looked once more at Kevin, who bravely met his eyes. Beckett could feel him trembling nervously at being outted to someone not in their immediate group. “The first responders gave the all clear a few minutes ago. You ready to head upstairs?” 

“Yes. Let me just give… Seamus… to his great-aunt.” Demming stayed behind while Beckett joined Castle, Martha, and Javier. Kevin settled into her side again and his little forehead bumped against her temple. 

“Told you so.”

“Shh.” She turned her head to drop a light kiss on his cheek. She set him on the bench next to Javier and took a cursory look around the lobby to make sure Bellefonte hadn’t followed them inside. Fortunately, the doorman was putting extra effort into making sure only residents of the building made it past the glass doors. Beckett suspected that he felt guilty that his laxness previously had resulted in the building’s most famous tenant being robbed. 

Beckett was at a loss for what to do with her junior partners. They understandably did not want to go upstairs and be surrounded by their colleagues, especially after Demming had recognized mini-Ryan with little trouble. She did want to go upstairs with Castle. She kept a noteworthy amount of stuff at his loft now for which she wanted to account and she was determined to figure out for exactly what Bellefonte had been searching. She felt sure it was the older brother. Finally, she didn’t feel comfortable burdening Martha with the boys while knowing that Bellefonte was without, whether he was the home invader or not. 

“You look like you’re trying to make an impossible decision,” said Castle. He rested his hand on her elbow. He seemed preoccupied. She realized that he was also keeping a wary eye on the front door.

“If it’s your detectives you’re worrying about, don’t,” said Martha. “I’ll take Javier and Kevin to the little coffee bar over there.” She motioned towards an interior glass storefront where Beckett could see the familiar barstools and booths that made up the building’s private coffee shop. It wasn’t as good as the public shops that Castle liked to frequent for their morning fixes but it was convenient and satisfactory in its own right. 

“Thank you.” Beckett took one last look around the lobby and peered out the front windows. Bellefonte was still keeping a low profile. Nonetheless, she didn’t let down her guard. “Javi, Kev, is that all right? You can come upstairs with Castle and me if you want.”

“I’d rather not,” said Kevin. Javier nodded in agreement. With that decision made, Beckett and Castle headed for the elevator while Martha and the boys crossed the lobby.

xXx

It didn’t take long for Castle to realize that robbery had not been the suspect’s intention when tossing his loft. The destruction seemed a little personal - innocent vases and miscellaneous decorations had been smashed out of spite - but nothing of value was missing. He reached down to pick up a shard of white ceramic that used to make up the #1 DAD mug that Alexis had gotten him as a gag gift for his birthday two years ago. It was easily and inexpensively replaced but the sentimental value was lost.

Each room had been searched, though the guest room was hit the hardest. All of the drawers were pulled out of the dresser, the bedding was ripped off the mattress, and all of the contents of the closet had been drug out and strewn around the room. “I think your theory that someone was looking for the boys is looking more and more solid,” he whispered to Kate. 

“And the only one who’d be looking for them is Bellefonte the Older,” replied Kate in an equally low voice. 

“Not necessarily. Maybe the FBI got wind of their unique circumstances and wants to kidnap them for ‘scientific research’?”

“Not now, Castle.” She sounded annoyed. Truthfully, the weak joke hadn’t lifted his spirits much either, so he resigned to being serious. “Do you think he was trying to ID them?” Kate picked up one of Javier’s t-shirts and absently folded it. Really, it didn’t look any better than when it had been a wadded mess on the floor, but at least now it was on top of the dresser. 

“It would be really easy to figure out who they are, especially since he spent a bit of time down at the 12th yesterday. Though, a name wouldn’t get him too much closer. He must have been looking for an address?”

Beckett’s eyes lit up. “Did he find the safe?”

“No… I don’t think he’s very good at invading homes. It’s not even that well hidden.” Kate followed Castle into the master closet, where he pushed aside a few hanging suits to reveal a camouflaged wall safe. He deftly keyed in the combination and pulled the door open. Inside, they could both see a few boxes of Castle’s most valuable possessions, a case for Kate’s favorite jewelry, and most importantly: two police issued side arms, two leather wallets, two NYPD badges, and two sets of police handcuffs. Castle flipped open one of the wallets to reveal Javier’s driver’s license. “I guess our unwelcome guest will have to find another way to locate our friends’ homes.”

“He didn’t have much trouble finding yours,” said Kate. 

Demming called for them from the doorway to Castle’s home office. Castle closed up the safe. They joined the burglary detective in front of Castle’s disorganized desk. Kate had informed him briefly of the exchange between Demming and Kevin, so the writer could easily recognize the look of confusion barely masked by Demming’s professional expression. 

“Find anything missing yet?”

“No, it really looks like this was more of a search for information than valuables.” Kate checked her watch to confirm that only fifteen minutes had passed since they’d parted with her boys downstairs. 

“For information on Esposito and Ryan?” The confusion showed more prominently on Demming’s face as he thought about the youngsters he’d seen in the lobby and the stash of little kid paraphernalia in the guest room. Kate nodded in affirmation. “What in the hell happened?”

“This really isn’t the time to talk about this,” said Castle. He looked out into the main space of his home where more officers and CSI continued to investigate. None were paying them any attention. 

“I guess not.” Demming started to look a little constipated. He turned to Kate, his longtime ex-girlfriend. “Well, we managed to lift a fingerprint that doesn’t belong to anyone who lives here - permanently or temporarily.” He shot a questioning look at Kate, seeking unwanted confirmation that she was of the more permanent type of resident. Kate acted as if she didn’t notice. 

“How did you get results so quickly?”

“You guys got the RTCC, we got portable print scanners.” He showed Beckett the little device. It had a small black light on the front, with which he scanned the top of Castle’s desk. When he located a clear fingerprint, he scanned it. The digital image appeared on a small screen and immediately it started comparing the print to those in the national registry. It took about thirty seconds for a match to appear. The name ‘Castle, Richard Edgar’ appeared in blocky letters under the print, as well as an indication that the print was from his right index finger. 

“I’m very jealous,” said Kate. 

“It’s not perfect,” said Demming. “The portable has to be manually updated and sometimes it’s flaky about getting good scans. Apparently the department couldn’t afford anything as nice as the FBI uses.”

“So, who is our mystery visitor?” asked Castle. 

Demming pulled out his notepad. “Rayford Bellefonte, 52. Hispanic, lives upstate by himself. No real job listed, giving him plenty of free time to rack up a list of priors. The most recent is an arrest two days ago for assaulting a Detective Kate Beckett.” He raised his eyebrow expectantly. 

Kate absently touched the sore spot on her cheek. “His mother is a suspect in the murder I am investigating. She’s also the one who ‘poisoned’ Ryan and Esposito.” 

“Bellefonte’s report does include a blurb about him stating that he is capable of witchcraft. Must run in the family.”

“It appears so,” said Kate. “I spoke with his younger brother just over an hour ago. Unlike his mother and brother, Randy Bellefonte sounds like he wants to help undo the spell. By the way, I spotted Rayford Bellefonte watching the building on our way in.”

“I’ll alert the men downstairs.”

“You’re taking all of this surprisingly well.” A little too easily, thought Castle. Even he had been thrown for a loop when the homicide detectives had transformed into little kids and he dealt in the realm of the inexplicable for a living.

“Believe it or not, this isn’t my first experience with the supernatural,” said Demming. “No, I’m not paranoid or gullible, either.”

“I didn’t believe in any of this before Friday,” said Kate. She hugged herself loosely. Castle worried that she was losing her adrenaline rush from the new crime scene and was starting to slip into the dark feelings that had plagued her ever since the world had been turned upside down on her head. When she’d called to invite him and the boys to ice cream, Castle could tell she’d learned something unfavorable during her interview with Bellefonte Two. In the madness to deal with the home invasion, whatever she wanted to tell him had been put on the back burner. 

“Do you need anything else from us, detective?” If not, he planned to take Kate immediately downstairs to collect the rest of the ‘family’ and find someplace safe to bunk for the night.

“No,” said Demming. “Unless you can think of anything that is missing, we’ll just finish here and lock up when we leave.” 

“An offer I won’t refuse.” Feeling like a very big man, Castle held out his hand to his previous challenger for Kate’s affection. Demming shook it briefly. Kate got a hug, much to Castle’s chagrin. Demming promised to call when he was leaving and the implication was heavy that he wanted an explanation at that time.

After putting together an overnight kit for themselves and the boys, Castle and Kate walked out of the loft together and rode the elevator down to the lobby in silence. She stood close enough to his side that her shoulder brushed his whenever one of them inhaled. He was just about to slip his arm around her waist when the steel doors slid open and the chaotic noise spilled into the car. The media had arrived. 

The newsmongers were thwarted by the police and the overly diligent doorman. Castle raised his hand to block his face from the rapidly flashing cameras trying to get a candid of him through the glass. It seemed to take much too long to reach the relative safety of the coffee shop. 

Martha had commandeered a booth in the far corner, well out of sight. She sat with her back to the wall, sipping at a tepid cup of coffee. Before she could protest, Castle stole a gulp of the black liquid. The flavor of coffee was nearly drowned out by the burn of the whiskey. Unprepared for the assault, Castle nearly choked on the drink. To his relief, he managed to swallow his mouthful and probably only turned very slightly red in the process. “Mother, is there any coffee in your Jameson?”

“Hush you. It’s been a trying day.” Martha waved her son away flippantly. 

Kate had more wisely decided to sample from the unfinished bowl of Napoleon ice cream melting expediently before Kevin. Castle knew it was impressive that the shop had ice cream at all, so he tried not to complain that Napoleon was the only flavor they stocked. 

“What did you find?” asked Javier. He was scrunched up against the wall now that Kate had slid in next to him and Kevin. Castle nudged his mother over so he could sit as well. 

“They found Rayford Bellefonte’s fingerprints,” she answered. “Nothing was stolen, which makes me think he was trying to find the two of you.”

“Did you tell them that the jackass was waiting outside when we walked up?” asked Javier. 

“Language,” scolded Castle at the same time Kate said, “Yes.”

“And our stuff?” asked Kevin quietly. 

“Still in the safe.” Castle knew that Kevin Ryan still carried a measure of guilt with him for the murder of Jane Herzfeld, committed with his old service weapon that Jerry Tyson had stolen and given to a Chinese mob frenemy. It was the youngest detective who had suggested placing his and Javier’s gear in the safe in the first place, to prevent the weapons and ID from falling into the wrong hands.

“What now?” Javier leaned against the edge of the table so he could see Kate more clearly around his partner. “Are you going back to the precinct?”

“Not tonight.” Castle could hear the hint of depression in her tone again. The boys noticed as well. Each of them watched her in concern for a moment, but neither commented. It was part of their ‘cop rules.’

“I still think a hotel is the best option,” said the writer. “Bellefonte One found my loft so it’s only a matter of time ‘til he comes after us at Kate’s or one of your places.”

“I wish he’d try again,” said Javier. “I’m all for letting him take his best shot. He’ll be the one to regret it.”

“I’d feel a lot better about your bravado if you were about two feet taller.” Castle was starting to get used to Little Kid Javier’s murderous glares so this one didn’t faze him much. 

“It was already generous of you to let us take over your guest room,” said Kevin. “A hotel is too much and the probability that Bellefonte will find and try to break into one of our places tonight is low. I agree with Javi.”

“You would,” complained Castle. “Regardless, mother and I are getting a hotel. The loft is completely torn apart.”

“You’re not leaving my sight until Bellefonte is behind bars, for good,” said Kate. Her tone allowed for no argument and she stared down her partners for added measure. Kevin sighed and dropped his head to the table top. Javier opened his mouth to argue but closed it again without speaking after a moment of thought. “Really, am I that bad?” Kate’s attempt to lighten the mood was severely handicapped by her own roiling emotions. Her forced smile barely curled the corners of her mouth. 

“Compromise,” offered Castle. “Mother and I will go book our hotel room while you three swing by Kevin’s place to pick up his laptop. You should check on Javier’s apartment, too. We’ll meet up again tonight.” He hated to delay hearing what Kate had learned at the hospital but that’s what it meant to compromise. Kate took a deep breath to soldier her constitution and nodded in agreement. Javier and Kevin didn’t outright protest so Castle opted to view that as support for his plan. 

By that time, the spiked coffee and melted ice cream were gone. Castle dropped a couple dollars on the table for whomever had to bus their dishes. He didn’t fail to notice the hard look that Javier gave the bills. The writer decided to try to think of ways to let the detectives contribute financially to their informal and impromptu community. While it meant nothing to the millionaire to foot the bill for food and clothes, it was clear that Javier at least was starting to feel kept. That did not sit well with the fiercely independent veteran. 

A uniformed officer met them at the exit to the coffee bar to inform Kate that his crew had done a sweep of the area and not found Rayford Bellefonte. They’d keep their eyes open but it appeared the man had decided to make himself scarce after being made by the homicide detective. Kate thanked him, though Castle could tell she was unhappy with the answer. They were now saddled with the task of getting out of the building while preventing anyone from getting a good look at the children in their company. Both shrunken detectives refused to be carried out hidden under jackets again so Castle went for the next best thing. He returned upstairs briefly to retrieve a couple of Alexis’ ball caps. The hats wouldn’t give the boys total anonymity but it was better than nothing. Before they walked outside, Kate knelt down and flipped up the collars of the once nice kid shirts that now bore the evidence of their swing set escapades. 

Reporters jostled for quotes and photo-ops as Castle led the way through the dense crowd. He clutched Javier’s small hand tightly, practically dragging the younger man through the press of people and cameras. Kate followed, likewise pulling Kevin along. Martha brought up the rear, though she didn’t seem to mind the attention as much. A couple of officers stepped in to assist their colleague and finally they were free, standing in the middle of the wide sidewalk where it was possible to get a breath of air that smelled only of the City and not a wicked menagerie of perfumes and colognes. 

The boys slipped free of the full size adults and led the procession towards the subway station two blocks away. It was just as easy as trying to find a taxi, especially considering that the size of their group would require one of the yellow minivans. Castle divided his attention between the two in front of him and the woman next to him. Kevin and Javier stayed close together, clearly conversing about something too quietly for the writer to overhear. Kate’s lips were set in a thin line as she glared ahead and did her best to hold it together a little bit longer. 

They were a block away from the entrance to the underground station when two nondescript men stepped out from behind an idling delivery truck, directly into the small space between the kids and the adults. The larger man was already shoving Castle and Kate roughly backwards while the other went after Kevin and Javier by the time the writer realized they were under siege.

xXx

Beckett grasped what was going on even while Castle floundered to catch up. She immediately reached for her side arm. The thug must have known that she would be the biggest deterrent to their pickup. He grabbed her arm and swung her around, slamming her into the side of the delivery truck. She merely grunted at the impact. Shoving herself away from the aluminum side of the vehicle, she threw a left hook simultaneously with reaching again for her gun. He rolled away from her punch and it barely grazed his stubble.

Castle finally jumped into action, trying to grab the man’s sweatshirt to pull him away from the detective. The gray material slid out the writer’s hold as the man twisted away. Beckett pointed her gun at his face. “NYPD, stand down immediately. Put your hands in the air where I can see them.”

The man did raise his hands, but in more of a ‘hey, I don’t got a problem with you’ than ‘I surrender.’ He flashed a dazzling white smile at the couple as he sidled to the right and then dashed around the back of the truck. Beckett went to follow him but was stopped by Castle’s hand on her arm. “The boys,” he said breathlessly, pointing up the street. Her focus on the first thug had caused her to forget that she couldn’t assume that her partners had the other perp handled by themselves. 

Fifteen yards away, the second man shoved Martha Rodgers towards the wrought iron gate that protected the entrance to a street level apartment. She had been ineffectually bashing the man with her heavy purse, which now hit the ground with an echoing thud a few feet from her. Javier squared off with the attacker and wiped his hand under his nose, smearing the trickle of blood over his lower arm. Beckett thought the effect of the gesture should have been diminished by his small stature but he somehow managed to pull it off with the same bravado he would have full size. His partner inched around behind the guy, looking equally serious. Beckett could practically see the wheels turning in the Irishman’s mind as he searched for a way to bring down the felon. 

The man, similarly dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans as his accomplice, lunged for Javier. The ex-military man ducked under his arms and cut around close to the man’s legs. The thug nearly overbalanced trying to make a grab for the detective. He managed to catch himself with a one-legged hop. Kevin threw his negligible weight against Small Perp, ending his bid for balance rather effectively. Unfortunately, he was back on his feet before Beckett could reach them. 

“NYPD, halt!” She didn’t really expect the man to listen any better than his friend. What she really wanted was for him to draw a weapon so she could put him out of their misery. Javier drove his pointy elbow into the man’s diaphragm, forcing the wind out of his lungs and causing him to double over. He stayed on his feet and moved a few steps away, trying to regain his ability to breathe. 

“Give me your taser.” Javier held his hand out. Beckett unclipped the small device from her belt without a second thought and pressed it into the boy’s hands. It wasn’t the same as a gun but at least her partner now had something with which to defend himself. She held her gun steady on the gasping assailant. 

“Get down on the ground, on your stomach!” She stalked closer, one hand on the trigger of her semi-automatic and the other braced beneath it. “Now!”

Instead of going down easily, Small Perp tried tackling her. He never finished the maneuver. His whole body shuddered as electricity pumped through it. He went down then, screaming in pain and rolling on the ground, his hands clutching the favorite part of his anatomy. Beckett cast a reproachful look at her partner. “Hey, I shot from my chest level.” Javier tossed down the taser, its barbs still embedded in the V between the thug’s legs. 

“I’m more annoyed that now I’m going to have to get a new one. I don’t ever want to touch that one again.” Javier rewarded her with a half smirk and the familiar glint that had been missing from his eyes recently. 

“Remind me never to anger you while armed with a taser,” quipped Castle. He joined them, looking a little disappointed to have missed out on the action while checking on his mother’s well-being. Beckett rolled her eyes. Small Perp had stopped screaming and was now lying on his side, whimpering. Beckett forced his hands behind his back and snapped on the cuffs a little more roughly than she usually did. She started reciting his Miranda rights, only to be interrupted when Kevin shouted her name. She whipped her head around to see Big Perp re-enter the altercation brandishing a hunting knife. His original intent had been the detective arresting his fellow kidnapper; however, Kevin’s shout had clued him in to an easier prey. The mini-detective came to the same realization a moment later. He turned and fled as quickly as his short little legs could carry him, drawing the armed assailant away from his partners. 

Beckett and Castle both gave chase. She had seen the Calvary finally arrive after the sounds of the confrontation reached the mass still stationed outside Castle’s building. They could deal with Small Perp. Big Perp was quick on his feet and overtook Kevin in the space of only a few strides. He snatched up the toddler and stuffed him under one arm like a human football. Kevin struggled against the hold but was unable to break free. 

Beckett knew she couldn’t fire her weapon at the fleeing man while he had a hostage. Instead, she fired a warning shot over his shoulder, hitting a metal street sign with a satisfying ping. Instead of heeding the warning, the man turned back towards her and lobbed the knife at her head. His aim was wide and she barely had to dodge the weapon but it did slow her down. Big Perp adjusted his hold on the toddler so that his wide chest was shielded from her bullets by the smaller body. Beckett cursed a blue streak under her breath. 

“Put him down, ass-wipe!” Javier came up beside her, tailed by a flustered looking uniformed cop. 

“Fuck you,” replied the kidnapper. Beckett knew it was against police protocol but her decision making abilities were severely hampered by the sight of her junior partner struggling against a captor he had no chance of escaping. She fired another warning shot at the feet of Big Perp. She wouldn’t assume that he was now unarmed but he acted as if his only remaining recourse was to run. He knew that sprinting down the sidewalk would present the detective with a bulls-eye on his back so he darted into the street instead.

Right into the path of an oblivious driver, armed with a Honda Civic. 

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. Let me know what you think of this chapter. Some of the references are to the Nikki Heat novels. I read all four of the currently released books in about a week, so I can’t remember what happened in which book.


	10. Sunday Evening - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of chapter nine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

###  Chapter Ten

Big Perp rolled across the hood of the sedan and left a human-sized shatter pattern in the windshield. The impact knocked Kevin loose. The toddler flew through the air in slow motion, landing solidly on the asphalt and rolling a few times from his momentum. The sound of more tires squealing as a red Escalade barely braked in time was deafening to Beckett. Castle’s shout at Javier to stay out of the road barely eked past the ringing in her ears. She felt like she was underwater as she watched Big Perp slide off the hood and bravely limp towards the shaken toddler. The man could only make it a few steps before his broken body failed him, but it put him close enough to grab Kevin’s left ankle and prevent the detective from getting away. Kevin sat down hard as his left foot was jerked out from under him. His pained cry jarred time back to its normal pace and the sounds of people shouting and impatient cars honking flooded back to Beckett with their usual clarity. As she ran towards them, Kevin drove the heel of his right shoe into the man’s jaw. With a curse, the man spit out one of his pearly teeth and refused to relinquish his hold on the boy. Kevin managed to slip off his shoe. Finally free, he scrambled to his feet and darted the rest of the way across the jammed street.

“I’ve got him.” Castle rocketed past her, pursued closely by Javier. Beckett reluctantly finished apprehending her second suspect. She knelt on him, with her knee digging painfully into his kidney, until her backup arrived to take over. In the distance, she could hear sirens. It was the familiar mix of police and ambulance sirens. Beckett didn’t know if Big Perp would make it to the hospital. He’d been hit pretty hard by the little sedan and with the lack of struggle in him now, she worried that she would lose him before she had a chance for interrogation. 

“Beckett, are you all right?” She looked up to find Demming towering over her, looking worried. 

“I’m fine,” she replied crisply. 

“I saw the accident. Go, I’ll take care of this jerk-off.” She gave him a grateful smile before setting off in the direction Castle had gone. 

On the opposite sidewalk she found Javier pacing impatiently, waiting for her. “Where are Castle and Ryan?” Beckett demanded.

“That way,” he said, pointing towards the park beyond the decorative iron fence. “Your asshole boyfriend failed to make sure I got through before the gate latched behind him.” Sure enough, a hinged gate stood a few feet away, secured by a latch that could be easily undone… if you could reach it. The mechanism was purposefully out of reach of small children. “How did Ryan get through?” She didn’t even realize that she’d switched back to surnames. Right now, it was her partner out there in an unknown condition and she would let nothing stand between them.

“The bars were just wide enough for him.” Apparently the designers of the park fence hadn’t thought that one through very well. 

“Let’s go.” Beckett opened the gate and let Javier go through first. She swallowed her concern at the blood smeared across his cheek and arm. He seemed to be doing fine despite whatever injury he’d suffered. Once inside, they quickly located Castle, squatting near the end of an old concrete culvert that had been converted into a tunnel for the amusement of the park’s smallest patrons. The grassy area around the more meticulously manicured playground was littered with the things, all of various sizes and paint jobs. Castle had picked one of the narrowest ones to peer into.

“Castle, where’s Kevin?” She slipped back into the emotional safety net of the first names. 

The writer pointed into the tunnel. He was clearly frustrated. Beckett knelt down see into the dimness for herself. The sun was starting to set as the afternoon turned late. She cursed the ridiculousness of the fifteen foot tunnel that was too small for an adult to climb through. She knew she would get stuck if she tried to wiggle through the concrete tunnel to her partner, whom she could see curled up just beyond the edge of the weak sun’s penetration into the tunnel. She could see the shivering of his little body from where she knelt and his labored breathing echoed in the small space. 

“It’s okay, you can come out now,” she said, reaching as far into the culvert as she could. She was about two feet short of her goal. “Both perps are apprehended. You’re safe now, baby boy.” Just like earlier, her adrenaline began to fade and she felt bone deep exhaustion start to slide over her. She had to blink back excessive moisture in her eyes and swallow past the knot in her throat when Kevin didn’t react at all to her voice. It was easy to see, even in the dim light, that he was going into shock. Hell, if she’d just barely survived a violent car accident, she’d probably be in shock, too. 

“Let me try.” Javier pushed firmly on her shoulder to get her to move away from the mouth of the tunnel. For the first time since Friday afternoon, Beckett envied her detective for being so small. Javier could crawl towards his partner with almost no difficulty save for the scrape of the concrete on his knees and hands. When he sat up next to Kevin, his body blocked Castle and Beckett’s view of the younger boy, though they could clearly hear anything said.

xXx

“Hey, bro, why you want to hide in this crappy tunnel?” It was a pretty crappy tunnel. Javier wrinkled his nose against the musty smell. He brushed at his raw knees, knocking loose what dirt he could. It was dark in the tunnel, making it more difficult to clearly see his partner. What he could see was that Kevin was so pale he nearly glowed and he shivered as if it was ten degrees in the tunnel instead of a cool sixty. “Kev?”

“Hurts.” Javier barely heard the admittance, but it was enough to cause his jaw to clench in anger. He chided himself to relax. 

“What hurts?”

“I can’t move my arm.”

“You crawled all the way in here with only one arm? How was that possibly a good idea?”

“My head.”

“Your head hurts, too? Well, that’s not much of a loss I guess. Clearly you were already brain damaged.” Javier slowly reached across Kevin to poke at his left shoulder. Kevin’s sharp cry of pain caused Javier to pull his hand back as if he’d been burned. From the near end of the tunnel, Castle and Beckett demanded an explanation for the sound. “Did you break something?”

“N-no. I landed on my shoulder. I think it’s dislocated.”

Javier hissed in sympathy. “I’m sorry, bro. That hurts like a bitch.”

“Is your nose still bleeding?”

“My what?”

“Nose.” Kevin looked at him like Javier had lost a few of his own brain cells during the altercation. 

“You’re asking about my nose right now?”

“I would have asked earlier, but we were busy.” 

“My nose is fine, idiot. You have any other boo-boos besides a jacked shoulder and severe mental impairment?” Kevin waited a heartbeat too long to reply negatively. Javier narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Tell me.”

“You’ll just laugh at me.” Kevin shifted his weight slightly and the movement caused a look of extreme discomfort to ghost across his round face. 

“After all we’ve been through, you think I’d laugh at you?” 

“Yes.” Javier sighed. Yes, he never missed an opportunity to rib his partner about his various misfortunes, but that’s because all they were was a series of unfortunate and hilarious events. Javier distinctly recalled _not_ laughing when he’d found his partner lying on the floor of Tyson’s dirty hotel room with a concussion and Castle bound to a chair. He hadn’t found it funny _at all_ when Kevin was being held under icy water until he risked drowning, though Javier probably hadn’t made the situation any better with his Your Mama joke. All that resulted from that incident was mild hypothermia and the Hispanic still couldn’t look back on that night with any sense of humor. Beckett and Castle could vouch for his inability to sit still for two seconds while Kevin was undercover with the Irish mob and the way he’d nearly shit himself when Kevin’s cover had been blown. 

On the bright side, his partner knew all that just as well as Javier did. Which meant, if Kevin thought he would laugh at his hidden injury, it couldn’t be that bad. Right? “Tell me, bro.”

A little color came back into Kevin’s white face as he admitted, “I think I split my tailbone when that asshole knocked me down again.” 

“Okay, so I’m too pissed right now to find that funny,” said Javier. “But you are in for it when everything cools down.”

“I hate you.”

“Love you, too. You ready to leave this germ hole?”

“Hurts too much to move.”

“What, your ass or your arm?”

“ _Javi_.”

“Sorry, sorry.” The stress of the attempted kidnapping on top of their recent transformation was making him silly. He took a deep breath to calm his racing heart. If he gave into the ridiculousness of his situation, it wouldn’t take long for his laughter to dissolve into hysteria. “We have to get out of here before Mom or Dad suffer a stroke. We’ll get you to a nice, cozy, sterile hospital where everything will stop hurting.” This whole time, Castle and Beckett had taken turns urging him to hurry up and drag Kevin out.

“Now I’m really not in the mood to move.” Kevin followed his statement with a muffled groan. He shifted onto his side to relieve the pressure on his tailbone. Javier let him curl up against his side and rest his blond head on the older boy’s shoulder. Kevin took long, slow breaths as he tried to ride out the pain. 

“I’ll make you a deal,” offered Javier. “If you cowboy up and crawl back out of this awful tunnel, I’ll let you tell people that you jumped further than me off the swing.”

“That’s not much of a deal. It’s like promising to let the truth come out.” Kevin lifted his head to give Javier a no-nonsense look. “Just because you’re morally challenged…”

“You did not jump further than me,” Javier argued. Maybe he said that a little too loudly.

“Are you two seriously arguing over the fucking swings again?” 

“My money’s on Dad having the stroke first,” whispered Kevin. Javier twisted slightly so he could see the impatient adults peering at them like creepers. His mind must be playing tricks on him. There was no way that steam was actually leaking from Castle’s ears. 

“Javi, what’s wrong?” asked Beckett. “Why won’t you come out?”

“He dislocated his shoulder when that douche tried to play chicken with the Civic. He’s too big of a baby to crawl back out because it hurts.” 

“Ass.” Javier knew Kevin was calling him an unkind name. In revenge, he purposely misunderstood and added, “Oh, he bruised his cute little behind, too. Ow!” The pinch hurt. Javier barely stopped himself from whacking Kevin in the side of his scrambled head. 

“What happened?”

“Little bitch pinched me.”

“Javier, _language_.”

“Shove it, hypocrite.” 

“He has a point, Castle,” said Beckett in defense of her partner. 

“Don’t take his side.” Castle pouted theatrically, momentarily putting away his anger. It came back in the form of dark humor. “You know, I have a friend in construction who could probably cut this thing open and have them out in less than an hour.”

“They’re coming out now. Right, Javi?”

“Don’t rush us.” Javier turned back to his partner. The actual shoulder joint was hidden from view by the sleeve of his shirt but the way Kevin’s left arm hung limply at his side made Javier’s stomach twist. “Come on, bro, I want to get out of here. I know it’s gonna hurt, but you gotta follow me out of here.”

“Just give me a few more minutes.” Kevin returned to taking deep breaths. “It’s cold in here… feels good.”

“It’s not that cold. How many more minutes do you need?”

“Ten.”

“That’s too many.”

“Nine.”

“Uh uh.”

“Eight.”

“No.”

“Six.”

“You skipped seven.”

“Not feeling very lucky right now.”

“You and me both, partner.” Javier looked back towards Castle and Beckett. He could see more movement behind them and hear voices as emergency responders arrived to get Beckett’s statement and tend to the wounded. “Time’s up.”

“We haven’t come to an agreement yet.”

“Well, I’m older than you so I get to decide. We’re moving, now.” Javier gently pulled away from Kevin, leaving the smaller boy sitting dejectedly by himself. “One inch at a time. You can do this, Kev.”

“I don’t want to go to the hospital.” Kevin took a deep breath and held it as he slowly pushed himself to his knees. He swayed briefly and Javier feared he would faint, but Kevin held it together and pushed himself towards his partner. Javier settled for a modified crabwalk. He scooted backwards on his rear with his hands behind him for balance and his feet pushing off on the concrete. This way he could watch his partner the whole trek. 

Despite the coolness of the shaded tunnel, Kevin was dripping sweat after only a few feet. Javier made sure to keep his gaze plastered to Kevin’s face. He couldn’t bear to look at the useless arm. “Just a little further. You’ve got this, bro.”

They were now within reach of Beckett. Javier was taken by surprise when her arm slipped around his waist and hauled him the rest of the way out of the tunnel. As soon as he was clear, Castle was reaching for Kevin. The writer cradled his prize protectively against his broad chest, mindful of the painful injuries. Beckett hugged Javier tightly. She rested her chin on top of his head as she watched the paramedics tend to their partner. A young woman in EMT gear approached them, asking if Javier had any injuries. His nose had stopped bleeding forever ago so he told her than he was fine. Beckett supported his claim, though Javier wasn’t sure if it was because she had his back or because she didn’t want to release him. The EMT grudgingly backed away after handing Beckett a packet of wet wipes. The lead detective pulled one out and set to work distracting herself by wiping the grime off of Javier’s skinned knees and palms. She wiped at the blood smear on his lower arm long after the redness was removed. Javier graciously ignored the salty water droplets that landed on his shoulder as she leaned over him for a better view of her work. 

A familiar woman, far too beautiful even in her ME scrubs, came through the gate and hurried directly towards her best friend and ex-boyfriend. Lanie had her favorite cream fleece wrapped tightly around her shoulders as she fought off the encroaching chill the accompanied the setting sun. Even on the last day in June the heat didn’t hang around long after the sun went down. 

“I came as soon as I heard what was going on,” she said breathlessly. Lanie took a minute to watch the EMTs huddled around Castle. When she turned back to Beckett and Javier her eyes were clouded with worry. “It’s all just a joke, right? Someone didn’t brazenly try to kidnap Javi and Kevin in the middle of a busy street?”

“Sounds like the kind of bullshit story Castle would make up, right?” Beckett squeezed his hand in silent reprimand. 

“Let me hear everything, play-by-play.” Since Beckett wasn’t in the mood to share, Javier outlined the altercation. He made sure to go into great detail about how he earned his bloody nose and how he’d brought down the first perp with a well aimed taser shot. When he got to the part where the second perp had darted into traffic the story stopped flowing as easily. The memory of the car striking the suspect and sending him and his hostage flying over the hood of the vehicle replayed in his mind with startling clarity. Like a broken record, the sound of metal hitting flesh at thirty-five miles an hour thudded through his head until his stomach leapt to the rescue by returning his partially digested ice cream. He barely missed Beckett’s feet.

“Javi!”

“Shh, shh, it’s okay.” Lanie grabbed her friend’s shoulders and stared into Beckett’s eyes as she willed the detective to not panic. “Breathe with me.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Javi’s fine. It just nerves. Little kids don’t handle stress as well as adults. The events of this afternoon finally caught up with him, that’s all.” Lanie broke from the staring contest with Beckett when the detective slowly nodded her understanding. “Come here, baby.” She held out an arm to her ex. Javier slid into her embrace, mainly for the purpose of hiding his embarrassment at being sick. She smelled like formaldehyde and other icky preservatives but underneath that, he could smell her citrusy body wash. He relaxed against her soft warmth as she rubbed his back and picked up her conversation with Beckett.

“Why did you two ever break up?” asked Beckett. Her obvious fatigue was making her tactless. His and Lanie’s reasons for parting ways amicably were their own and it wasn’t like Beckett to try to butt into other people’s business. 

“Javi’s a little too preoccupied with a cute blonde up at the precinct and I didn’t feel like competing for his attention,” said Lanie candidly. Javier couldn’t resist pulling away slightly so he could see the confusion dance across Beckett’s face as she mentally imagined all of the fair-haired females that worked at the 12th. He refused to throw her a bone when she came up short. 

The EMT returned to inform them that Sean’s shoulder had been reset. Against her better judgment, they were allowing him to go home with his cousin instead of to the hospital. 

“Excuse me? Sean?” Beckett asked the question that was burning through both Lanie and Javier. 

“Yes, Sean Raley, the little boy. Mr. Castle’s second cousin on his mother’s side.”

What an idiot. Javier rolled his eyes as Lanie hid her face against his shoulder to muffle her laughter. Beckett worked her jaw a couple of times, looking like a fish, before finally giving in and saying, “Thanks.” After repeating the same instructions that she’d likely given Castle, the EMT left, only vaguely reassured by Lanie who flashed her medical license and promised to keep an eye on ‘Sean.’

“Thank goodness she’s more of a romantic than a mystery reader,” joked Lanie. 

“Is he stoned?” asked Javier. “Why would Castle give them that name?”

“It’s not any worse than what I told Demming,” mumbled Beckett. 

“I’m sure it is.”

“No big deal, she didn’t catch on,” said Lanie. “Come on; let’s go collect Castle and Kevin.” Beckett stood wearily and reached for Javier’s hand once more. He squeezed her fingers tightly, trying to impart the comfort she was seeking. Lanie took his other hand and together the three of them walked to where Castle stood near the smelly concrete tunnel, cradling the sedated toddler. Through the small opening in the wool blanket someone had wrapped around his partner, Javier could see that Kevin’s left arm was bound securely against his side with an ACE bandage. 

“I’m so ready to get out of here,” said Castle as the trio stopped before him. “Let’s never have a day like this again.”

“If you say so, Mr. Rook.”

Castle was slow on the uptake but he eventually got the rib. “You try thinking under pressure when your head’s spinning like a Tilt-a-Whirl.”

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who took a peek at this story. Don't feel shy about telling me what you think. Have a great day!


	11. Monday Morning - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Beckett does not feel well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Eleven

The next morning, Beckett awoke a few minutes before dawn. Her head ached and her whole body felt stiff, as if she’d spent the last ten hours in an awkward position on an unfamiliar bed. It took her too long to remember that she was in the hotel room that they had finally booked the night before. Next to her, Castle slept soundly on his side, facing her. Beckett traced her index finger over his upper lip with a feather-like touch that didn’t wake him. Her full bladder got her attention then, demanding that she sidetrack to the en suite bathroom before exploring the rest of her surroundings. As she slid out of the bed she glanced at the digital clock. Just shy of five-thirty. She frowned when she realized that she didn’t remember anything after about seven the night before. 

She spent a few extra minutes in the bathroom brushing her teeth and hair. She found an impossibly soft, terry cloth guest bathrobe in the linen closet. Of course, Castle would only stay at the best hotels. She slid the scented fabric over her cotton t-shirt and boy shorts, letting the silky sash hang uselessly from its loops. Stiffly, she slipped out of the bedroom. 

She vaguely remembered the layout of the suite. Central to the floor plan was the posh living area with a hide-away bed in the suede couch. Said bed was currently pulled out and piled with every spare pillow and blanket in the room. When she had last been in the room, the polished cherry coffee table and matching side had still been artfully located about the central art deco rug. She approached the couch bed silently on the balls of her bare feet. 

Kevin was nestled in a cocoon of pillows and blankets, carefully placed on his right side so he wouldn’t put pressure on his sore shoulder or bruised tailbone. All of the dust and dirt and blood from the afternoon before had been cleaned away, leaving him looking a little bit like a porcelain doll on which someone had colored with bluish black Magic Marker. She spotted the tag of one of the comforters sticking out of the mass of bedding. Idly she turned it over. Synthetic filling. 

Next to the blanket mound slept Javier, sprawled out on his back with his arms flung wide and his head turned to the side. She wished she had grabbed her phone out of the bedroom. It wasn’t every day you could snap a picture of one of your co-workers drooling. 

Content to let her boys (Castle included) sleep a little longer, Beckett padded into the kitchenette after glancing at the closed door to the second bedroom where she assumed Martha was still sleeping. She needed something warm to clear the fog in her head and hopefully chase away the pounding as well. She inspected the complimentary coffee bar between the kitchenette and the living area. Plain black coffee would work but it wouldn’t be as sweet going down. She really wanted a fix of her favorite beverage. 

The room service menu invited her to take a seat at the dinette set off the side of the entry way. She perused the menu leisurely. In the end, she ordered a sugar free double pump skinny vanilla latte and an assortment of pastries and fresh fruit. She was assured that it would be sent up to her room shortly. She set about finding her wallet so she’d be ready with a tip when it arrived. 

While she waited she tried to piece together what had transpired after they checked into the hotel room. She remembered Castle carrying the semi-conscious Kevin, leaving her with the overnight bag. Lanie and Javier stuck close together, making her wonder once again who could have charmed Javier enough to get him to stray from a girl with whom he was clearly smitten. Martha finished out their group. She had only stayed a few minutes, claiming that she needed to unwind at a bar with some of her fellow stage actors. 

Beckett had given into her paranoia and scoped out the room before letting anyone get too comfortable. Once she was assured that the room was clear she let down her guard marginally. While Castle and Lanie explored the rest of the suite, Beckett disappeared into the larger bedroom for a minute of solitude. She changed out of her grimy work clothes and washed day off as well as she could with a washcloth. Finished, she took a seat on the edge of the bed and… that was all she could remember. Mortification colored her cheeks when she realized that she must have fallen asleep right then, leaving the others to fend for themselves. She made a mental note to give a huge thanks to her boyfriend and best friend for taking care of her boys while she slept. 

The early breakfast arrived with a polite knock on the door. Beckett tipped the man generously. She left the fruit and pastries for later, instead focusing on the delicious espresso drink. She let her mind wander about her murder case and the connected curse on her partners. She hoped that she’d be able to make big strides on the case today. The murder and curse had taken place on a Friday and Captain Gates had been unwilling to draw in support from other teams or departments until the first day of the new week. No one could replace Ryan and Esposito, but there were a couple other detectives at the 12th worth their salt. She and her group needed to put their heads together soon and come up with a believable story about why her junior partners weren’t coming back to work any time soon. If Randy Bellefonte was to be believed, they were never coming back. 

She shoved that thought aside and took a deep drink of the scalding coffee to burn away the rapidly forming lump in her throat. Now was not the time for tears or weakness. Work needed to be done. 

Alone with her worries and worst-case scenarios, Beckett picked at the fruit until her restlessness got the best of her and she couldn’t stand to sit there idly anymore. She pushed out of her chair and stood. A wave of vertigo washed over her. She braced herself against the table until the dizziness passed. “Come on Beckett, get it together.” Her mini-pep talk seemed to work and she was able to cross the room steadily to enter the bedroom she shared with Castle and eventually the bathroom. By the time she stepped out of the bathroom in fresh clothes and armed with fresh resolve, it was going on six-forty-five and she could hear sounds of life from the rest of the suite’s occupants. 

The boys sat at the dinette, picking at her leftovers while Castle dutifully made coffee in the single serving brewer. Martha studied the previously abandoned room service menu from one of the displaced living room chairs. “Good morning, beautiful,” greeted Castle when he noticed her. She walked over to give him a quick kiss, morning breath or not. 

“Good morning yourself, handsome. What time did Lanie leave last night?”

“Around nine-thirty.”

“Thank you for taking care of the boys last night. It wasn’t my intention to fall asleep on you.”

“You looked like you could use the sleep,” said Castle. “The boys both went down immediately after bath time, which followed a very healthy room service dinner. Which, by the way, your youngest did not eat. Lanie took his side and argued that the inordinate amounts of painkillers the EMTs gave him probably weren’t helping his appetite. She stuck around a little after bedtime to make sure I was comfortable with taking care of Kevin’s various owies and to make doe eyes at Javier.”

“Doesn’t sound too eventful.” She still felt guilty and it must have shown on her face. 

“It wasn’t. We had it sorted, no problem. I’m responsible for them, too, you know. I could handle solo night.”

With anyone else, Beckett would have protested the thought of someone else staking claim on her partners. Castle’s concern and willingness to fill a vital role made her heart beat a little harder. She smiled fondly at him. “Well, thank you.” She glanced over at the dinette. Neither detective seemed to be paying them any attention so she leaned in closer. “Lanie told me something interesting last night.”

“Oh?” Predictably, Castle was all ears. He leaned forward as well, eager for the information. 

“She said that the reason she and Javi broke up, despite their obvious attraction to each other, is because Javi has his eye on someone else that Lanie thinks isn’t worth competing with.” Beckett grinned at his expression. 

“Did she tell you who this mystery girl is?”

“Just a ‘cute blonde’ who works at the precinct.”

“Wow, an honest to goodness mystery.” Castle clasped his hands together and also glanced covertly at the boys. “Do you have any leads?”

“Really, this is what you call an ‘honest to goodness’ mystery? Not the dead girl-slash-woman in an alley or who tried to make off with my detectives yesterday?” Beckett had to laugh at his earnest puppy-dog expression. 

“Those are murder mysteries and kidnapping mysteries. This is just a… mystery.” He smiled sublimely. 

“Sure, if you say so. And no, I don’t have any leads. I can’t imagine Javi choosing any of the blondes at the 12th over Lanie.”

“Let me think.” Castle held his index finger to his chin as he methodically scanned his mental dossier of the precinct. Beckett ignored her inference that he obviously had noted quite a few attractive blondes at her workplace. “Nothing. The only people I really see Javier interact with at work are you, me, Kev, and Captain Gates. Oh, and Lanie.”

“I’ll keep my eyes peeled today,” she promised. “Are you going to be okay by yourself with the boys?” 

“Of course. I will probably leave them with my mother for a couple hours and go down to the hoity-toity hotel where you think Serafina stopped before her alley date.”

“Call me before you go,” she requested. She didn’t like leaving the boys with anyone but Castle. She forcefully pushed down her paranoia. They would be perfectly safe with Martha and Kevin probably couldn’t go anywhere in his current state anyway.

“Will do. Lanie and I were talking last night about how it might be a good idea to get the kids out of the city for a few days. I could drive them out to the Hamptons with my mother this afternoon then come back here to help you on the case.”

“Castle, no.” Beckett cursed the desperate fear she could hear in her voice. She didn’t want him to take the boys from her, even if staying put them in danger. She could take care of them. She’d foiled a kidnapping scheme the day before, right? Besides, how could she get Randy Bellefonte to fix them if they were two hours away?

“They’ll be safer there and it’s no good to stay in hotel when you can stay in a home.” Their roles were reversed. Now he was being the rational one and she was thinking with her heart. 

“I know. I just… don’t take them up there today, okay? Let me think.” She ran her hand through her light brown hair. 

“Okay, okay,” he said complacently. He placed his hands on her shoulders. “Not today, but promise me you’ll think about this, Kate. Think about _them_.” She nodded slowly. He gave her a wobbly smile. The sound of the coffee brewer puttered out as it finished filling the glass carafe. Castle released her so he could tend to the appliance. She headed over to her boys, blinking back her emotions as she did so. 

“Morning,” greeted Javier. “Thanks for inviting us to breakfast.”

“Looks like you made yourselves welcome regardless,” she retorted. She brought one of the remaining chairs around to sit perpendicular to Kevin. He looked miserable and not just because it was impossible for him to sit comfortably or because his left arm was securely bandaged against his side. She counted a grand total of two strawberry tops on his plate compared to the gold mine Javier had scored. She worried briefly that the strawberries might have contaminated the other fruit but he seemed fine. 

“You don’t look so hot, sister.”

“What a flatterer,” complained Beckett. She made a face at Javier before turning her attention to the blond. She ran her slender fingers through his tousled locks. He was sporting a serious case of bed head. He endured the petting stoically. She realized that they were just as worried about her as she was about them. After all, she’d wimped out earlier than they had last night. 

“What happened yesterday with Bellefonte the Younger?” asked Javier, adopting Castle’s nickname. 

“We met at the hospital. His brother was there too. They had a brief altercation and then Rayford was escorted from the hospital. Ms. Bellefonte is still unconscious.” She continued to smooth down Kevin’s soft hair, finding comfort in the repetitiveness of the motion. “He was able to find a hidden journal that his mother kept about her spell work that CSI missed. He’s been away from magic for a long time so he needs to catch back up to what she was doing. On the positive side, he seemed readily able to grasp what he was reading. I understand why Nora thought he was gifted in her dark arts.”

“So he can break the spell on Kev and me sooner than later?” Javier perked up at the seemingly good news. Beckett grimaced. 

“Not exactly. He’s a doctor, remember. He’s worried that he might do more harm than good and he’s not willing to take that chance.”

“But he has to help!”

“Indoor voices,” scolded Castle. He joined them with two mugs of coffee. Since she’d had her latte fix, the brewed coffee seemed more palatable now so Beckett took a sip. “And why are we yelling, anyway?”

“Beckett says that BTY might be able to reverse this fu… messed up curse but he won’t try because his bull… crap medical oath prevents him from doing more harm than good,” vented Javier. “If jack… people are going to keep pulling shit like yesterday, I don’t think I can wait four to six weeks for this wear off on its own.” Beckett hid her face in her coffee mug, cradling it with two hands and frantically trying to think of the easiest way to tell her partners the rest of the news. 

Kevin watched her closely now that she was no longer fixated on him. “There’s more, isn’t there?”

Beckett took a deep breath. This whole case had her off-kilter. This wasn’t how Homicide Detective Kate Beckett acted. She didn’t back down from confrontation or scary circumstances. She’d faced more threatening foes than a six- and four-year-old. “Randy indicated that she may have cast a different spell on you two than on Valduerez.”

“How different? We’re stupid small, just like her.”

“According to the notes in the journal, the transformation back to adult form is just as brutal as the one to child form,” explained Beckett. “It gets worse each time, too. Nora Bellefonte was trying to find a mix that would last longer so the subject wouldn’t have to suffer as much. It’s clear than she cared for her daughter-in-law.”

“So BTY claims that she came up with a different concoction that lasts longer and the decided to use Ryan and me as guinea pigs?” Thunderclouds rolled across Javier’s face. Taking Beckett’s late response as an affirmative, he asked, “How much longer?”

“A lot longer.” Her courage was failing her. Javier would never accept her deflection. 

“Quantify. Six months, a year?”

“No.”

“Indefinitely?” The small voice came from Kevin as he instantly went for the worst case scenario. Beckett’s eyes closed as she tried to stop her spinning thoughts. Was it hot in the suite? Who had turned up the heat so high in the middle of summer?

“Damn it,” said Castle at the same time Javier muttered, “Fuck.” Castle wisely didn’t comment on the swear word. 

“So, are we talking permanently this size or do we get to replay our childhoods?”

“There is no way I am dealing with you two as adolescents,” stated Castle. He shuddered at the thought. Javier gave him a look that promised painful death. 

“I don’t know,” said Beckett to Kevin’s question. 

“What about long term affects? Was there something in the potion - concoction - whatever that could prove harmful in the future?”

“He’s not that familiar with the ingredients yet.”

“And what about turning us back? What harm is he so worried about doing?” That question came from Javier. “I’d be willing to put up with a lot to not lose everything I have right now.” Kevin nodded in agreement. 

“I’m sorry I don’t know,” admitted Beckett. Damned emotions. “But if the remedy is fatal, I’m not willing take that chance, either.”

“It’s not your choice to make!” Beckett’s eyes widened at the venom in her partner’s voice and the devastating implication that he might actually prefer dying to growing up again.

“Come here,” said Castle. He tried to pick up the shaking six-year-old but Javier wanted nothing to do with his comfort. He shoved away from the table hard enough to knock his chair over as he stood. He stormed across the room and slammed the door to Castle and Beckett’s room. A second wall shaking thud sounded as he entered the bathroom. Martha looked over at the remaining trio with a frown. 

“Now what?”

Beckett stood up as well. She apologized absently to Martha as she hurried by, following her detective. She knew Castle could watch Kevin and explain the new development to his mother. To her relief, neither door was locked. Her relief was short-lived, though. Javier was bent over the toilet, dry heaving. Her first thought was that the strawberries had contaminated the rest of the fruit after all, but she quickly added up his shuddering form and wet cheeks and surmised that distress was causing the illness, not allergies. She remembered his illness the day before in the park. 

He finished and sagged against the porcelain bowl. She wetted a washcloth and brought it over to him. He didn’t fight her as she wiped off his face and hands. Beckett tossed the messy cloth into the sink.

“It just keeps replaying in my mind, over and over. Every time I look at him.” Beckett tucked her loose hair behind her ears. She took a seat on the cold tiles, wedging herself up against the side of the tub. Javier came to her when she beckoned, curling into her embrace and letting out his pain. 

“Tell me,” she whispered. Javier had been instrumental to her getting over a debilitating fear of snipers. She fully intended to return the favor. 

“He just ran out into the street without looking. I can still hear the crunch from when they were hit and the squeal of the tires as they were almost hit again.” 

Beckett squeezed him as tightly as she could. He didn’t protest. “I know. It’s haunting me, too.”

“If we weren’t small, he never would have had the chance to take Kevin hostage and run.”

“I know.”

“I can’t do this. I can’t watch the people I love get hurt when I used to be able to protect them.”

“I know.”

“It’s not fair.”

“I know.” She pressed her lips against the crown of his head and added her own tears and shuddery breathing to his. She squeezed her eyes shut as if it would block out the image of the accident. Eyes opened or closed, the scene played out before her over and over and over…

Why was it so warm?

xXx

“Now what?”

Castle gave his mother a sorrowful look. He didn’t feel that badly for her - after all, she didn’t have to live with him. Still, the introduction of the two cursed detectives to their lives had turned everything on its head. She seemed to like the boys well enough and was willing to take care of them for short periods of time. However, Castle knew that she relished her role as grandmother, enjoying the younger generation when they were smiling and laughing and giving them back to the responsible parties when the thunder rolled in. Martha had a special bond with Alexis, stepping into the place of the girl’s missing female role model. The boys, however, were all Castle’s problem when things turned dicey. 

“Randy Bellefonte told Kate yesterday that he thinks his mother used a different spell on the boys than on the murder victim. He thinks this one might not wear off on its own.”

“That’s unfortunate.” Martha sighed and placed her hand on Kevin’s back. “How’s your shoulder?”

“Sore.”

“Isn’t it time for more pain medication, Richard?”

“Probably, but he hasn’t eaten anything since lunch yesterday,” replied Castle. Kevin frowned at him. “That does not count as eating.” He pointed to the two strawberry tops. 

“Really, I think you should consider taking him to a real doctor, a pediatrician,” she said. She tapped Kevin on the nose when he turned to direct his kicked puppy expression at her. “I know, I know, you think you’re still a big boy. Don’t you think it’s worth swallowing your pride to stop being in so much pain?”

“But…”

“I agree with you, Mother, but what can I do?” asked Castle, speaking over Kevin’s faint protest. “They’re not mine to make decisions like that about.”

The stage actress huffed. “I’d say they’re as much yours as anybody’s. Who’s stayed with them every minute since the change happened? Fed them, clothed them, and provided emotional support?”

Castle did agree with her, to a degree. Not so much that he had any real authority over the boys, but that he had taken care of them while Beckett was working. What his mother appeared to be missing was that he did all that because he wanted to, not because he felt forced. He didn’t feel like Beckett or the boys owed him anything in return for what he did for them. He said as much. 

“You’ve always been very giving, Richard. I love that about you,” said Martha. “But you let yourself be taken advantage of sometimes. You need to take a stand for what you think.”

The writer really wished that she could have made her feelings about this whole situation known somewhere private, where one of the very people she was talking about wasn’t sitting right there at the table with them. She was right, though. What did the three detectives know about raising children? Of anyone, he knew the most. Just because Alexis had been so easy didn’t mean he hadn’t had to be an active part of her development. He studied the youngest detective’s face, taking in the downcast eyes, furrowed brow, and deep frown. A stronger emotion than hurt or fear or anger had broken through his expression and Castle didn’t like it one bit. For all her well intentioned words, all his mother had achieved was making Kevin feel guilty about what had happened to himself.

Well, maybe that wasn’t the only thing she had achieved. “You’re right, though maybe a little more tact would have been nice,” he said. 

“Tact? Talking to males is like trying to break through a brick wall. Sometimes it takes a sledgehammer instead of an ordinary one.” 

Castle shook his head in amusement. After the moment passed, he focused on Kevin again. “Do you want some Tylenol?” The boy nodded slowly. Castle retrieved the bottle of pills and a glass of water. To his relief, the toddler could still swallow the medication whole. Unfortunately, the writer knew how bitter it tasted when ground down and was glad the boy didn’t have to suffer through that as well. He had to help hold up the glass since Kevin’s hands were two small to lift it one-handed. “Mother’s right, I should take you to a doctor. Even Lanie suggested it.”

Kevin shrugged his good shoulder. Castle decided to interpret the gesture as permission. He felt a little bad about taking advantage of Kevin’s conscience, especially when he thought the guilt was misplaced, but being able to go through an awkward situation without an epic fight to start would be nice. 

“Mother, did you find anything for breakfast?”

“A few things,” she replied. “Richard, how does French Toast sound to you?”

“Heavenly.”

“Let me guess, you’re not hungry.” Martha patted Kevin’s hand where it rested on the table. “Don’t look so forlorn, kiddo. This mess isn’t anyone’s fault but the hag who caused it. Some of us who haven’t been turned into children just need to start acting like adults.” He attempted to give her a small smile of understanding but Castle thought it’d be generous to call the slight movement at the corner of his mouth a smile of any kind. “What would Javier like?”

“Get him something salty. He’s had enough sugar this morning after finishing off Kate’s breakfast,” said Castle. “Speaking of the two of them - do you think enough time has passed for me to go check on them?”

“Let them be,” said Martha. “With any luck, they’re dealing with the trauma of the accident yesterday.”

“I guess that’s a good thing.” Castle stood up again and lifted Kevin into his arms, doing his best not to aggravate the toddler’s injuries. He carried the mini-detective into the living room where he settled onto the remade suede couch. He positioned Kevin on his stomach next to him. He used a pillow to try to prop him into a comfortable position. Back in the eating area, Martha called for room service. 

A few minutes passed in relative silence. Castle strained to hear what was going on in the room behind them but all was quiet on the Western front. Next to him, Kevin shifted uncomfortably, still waiting for the medication to kick in. “How long do you think until your partners reemerge?” Castle asked in a low voice. 

“Not long. Neither like showing any kind of weakness.” Kevin pushed himself up slightly and made a face as the hurt coursed through him. “How’re you so calm?”

“I didn’t actually witness the impact,” said Castle. “I was a few steps behind, dealing with some gawkers. By the time I reached the scene, you were already making footprints on Crash Dummy’s face and then trying to lose us all in the concrete tunnel graveyard.”

“Oh.”

“Make me a promise, kid.”

“What?”

“The next time you’re hightailing it from someone bent on murder-suicide, run towards me, not away.” 

Kevin was quiet for a worrisome amount of time. When he finally offered a faint, “Okay,” Castle couldn’t help the grin that slipped onto his face. The writer brushed his hand over the blond’s fine hair. 

“And even if it’s not a crazed kidnapper, but just an ordinary problem, come to me.” The small head nodded slowly under his hand. “Thanks.”

“You’re the one who deserves the thanks.”

“Remember that when you and Espo are big again and think it’ll be funny to jerk me around.”

“That I can’t promise.”

“The pain killers must finally be working, if you’re being sassy.” Kevin just made a low sound of disagreement. 

The door to the bedroom opened a crack. Castle twisted in his seat. He was a little disappointed to see Javier peeking out at him instead of Kate. Still, he motioned for the kid to come around the couch and talk to him. He could see the tell-tale puffy redness around the large brown eyes; though, it was also clear someone had wiped away the tear tracks with a cloth. “You okay, buddy?”

“I think Beckett is sick.”

“What do you mean?” Castle leaned forward and grasped Javier’s hand. 

“She’s feverish and has a bad headache. She told me to get you.”

“Okay, I’ll take care of it.” Castle stood from the couch, releasing the younger man’s hand. “Watch your brother.” With that, he hurried towards the bedroom. 

He forewent knocking, instead bursting into the room, fearful that he would find Kate about to expire. She must be very sick if she sent one of the boys to find him. The last time she’d shown any kind of physical weakness was when that sniper had tried to kill her at Montgomery’s funeral. 

Instead, Kate was picking up a few discarded pieces of clothing from the floor and tossing them into a neat pile in the corner. “Oh, Castle. I’m about to head out. Don’t forget to call me when you’re on your way to the jewelry show.” Her words sounded a mite rushed and he could see the sheen of sweat on her brow. Her act wasn’t fooling him at all. 

“Javi said you were sick.”

Kate stopped and pushed a few strands of damp hair away from her face. “Little traitor,” she mumbled. “I’m fine, Castle. Actually, I’m running late.”

“You don’t look so fine. In fact, you kind of look like you were visited by Casper.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“You’re the one being silly.” Castle caught her in a backwards hug and pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. When she gave in briefly and leaned back against him, he released one hand to press against her forehead. It only took him a second to register the fire burning under her sticky skin. “Kate, you’re burning up.”

“I’m fine.” She slipped out of his embrace. “Where is my jacket?”

“You like to deal in facts, so let’s fact check here. If your temperature is less than 100 degrees, I will stand down and let you be on your merry way.”

“I don’t have time for this. Now, in addition to a murder, a poisoning, and a break in, I have an attempted kidnapping to deal with. Please, excuse me.”

“It only takes thirty seconds. It will take me longer to back down from this argument.”

“Ugh, fine! Do you even have a thermometer?”

“I’ve been living with two small children the past three days. Of course I have a thermometer.” Castle retrieved the digital device and handed it to Kate. “No cheating.”

“You’re the one who cheats.” Kate took the thermometer and shoved it under her tongue. Since she was supposed to keep her mouth closed, she settled for giving the concerned writer an annoyed glare. While waiting for the reading to complete, she continued searching for her misplaced jacket. 

Ten seconds later, the sensor beeped. Kate ripped it from her mouth and tossed it at Castle. “Don’t forget to call me.”

“Kate, this says 102.” He held it up so she could see the digital readout. 

“I’ve had worse.” She tried to push past him but nearly lost her balance during the quick maneuver. He grabbed her arms to steady her. 

“You have a headache, too?”

“Look, I’m under a lot of stress right now. I almost watched one of my detectives die yesterday. I can’t afford to take a sick day.”

“It looks to me like you can’t afford to _not_ take one,” argued Castle. “I’ll call Captain Gates to explain the situation. The whole case is not going to fall apart if you’re not there.”

“ _No one_ is there, Castle. On an ordinary day with an ordinary case, I could stay home and just keep in contact with Ryan and Esposito by phone. Did you forget that my only dependable detectives are out there, even less capable of working than I am?”

“Of course I didn’t forget. Kate, I need you to take care of yourself. I can’t do this without you. The boys need you. Don’t be foolish and go work a dangerous case when you’re not in top form.”

Kate looked like she wanted to argue some more but her face started to turn green. She barely managed to reach the toilet before losing her coffee and pastries. Castle rushed to her side and pulled her hair back. “Not good,” she muttered. 

“That’s it,” the writer said sternly. He pulled out his cell phone and hit the speed dial for the 12th precinct. It was still early, but Gates was an early riser. The operator picked up and graciously transferred the handsome author to Gates’ direct line. The captain picked up after three rings. “Captain Gates, it’s Richard Castle.”

“Castle, to what do I owe this pleasure?” She didn’t sound like it was much of a pleasure. Actually, she kind of sounded like she’d rather be talking to anyone else. Well, his next statement wasn’t going to make himself any more likable. 

“I’m with Detective Beckett right now, who is paying feverish homage to the porcelain gods.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m thinking the flu.” Castle put his hand over the microphone. “Did you get a flu shot this year?” Kate gave him the finger as she started to heave again. “Definitely the flu.”

“It’s not flu season. Are you sure that’s the problem? She wasn’t poisoned like Detectives Ryan and Esposito?” Castle hadn’t thought of that. Had the diabolical room service staff tried to incapacitate Kate? He shook his head to clear his mind. No one else was experiencing Beckett’s symptoms and nearly all of them had sampled a part of Kate’s leftovers. 

“No, it’s different from what the boys went through. I really think it’s the flu. Alexis had the flu when she was in eighth grade. It was pretty awful, poor girl. She had to miss a week of school. I don’t know if she was more miserable from the illness or all the missed classes.”

“Well, tell her to go to a doctor and get better soon. I’ll brief Detective Tyler’s team on the Valduerez murder so they can dig into some leads while she’s out. Ask Beckett to call me when she’s feeling a little less religious.”

“Of course, thank you, sir.” Castle hit the End Call button. “You’re good. Gates has requested that you visit a doctor to confirm my diagnosis.”

“I just need a few minutes and some industrial strength Advil.”

“I’m planning to take Kevin in anyway, so we can just have a merry old field trip to the local MD.”

“It’s probably a good idea to take Kevin. I’m sure I’ll be fine. Maybe a little sleep will help.”

“Wow, you must feel awful.”

“You have no idea.”

“Against my better judgment,” he said, imitating the EMT from the car accident scene, “I will leave you here to rest while I look up Alexis’ old pediatrician. Promise me you’ll actually rest and not sneak out while I’m gone.”

“I’ll try not to.”

“Huh. Well, it will make my life easier if I can leave Javier with you.” Kate would never leave her partner alone in the hotel room, meaning that she would have to stay as well or take the boy with her to the precinct. It was a great plan. 

.  
.  
.

“I want to go with you.”

Castle ran his hand over his face. “Javi, don’t you want to stay here and make sure Beckett has everything she needs?”

“Beckett’s a big girl. She knows how to take care of herself.”

“What, and I don’t?”

“Barely.”

“Thank goodness I have you to keep my ego in check.” Castle looked around the impersonal room, searching for a stroke of inspiration. Nothing came to him, so he went the lame duck route. “I thought you hated hospitals.”

“Not as much as Honey Milk.”

Right. Javier wasn’t being difficult for his own sake. Now Castle felt torn. It would be awkward enough trying to explain why he was in possession of a child with such severe injuries that wasn’t his own. He didn’t know how he would explain two of them to Social Services, especially since it was clear that they weren’t immediately related to each other. It would be so much easier for him if Javier stayed with Beckett. On the other hand, it would probably be easier for Kevin if his partner was there for moral support. This would be the first time they were more than a few yards away from each other since the transformation. 

“Kevin, can you survive this adventure without Javi there to hold your hand?” He didn’t mean to sound patronizing but a small part of him hoped that the boy would want to prove his independence and fly solo for once.

“If I have to.” Castle inferred the “but I don’t want to” as if Kevin had actually spoken the words. Javier raised an eyebrow gloatingly. 

“Okay, here’s the truth.” He knelt down next to the couch so he could be at eye level with the two junior detectives. His knee popped as he lowered himself. Really, he wasn’t that old yet, was he? “I’m afraid that if I leave Kate here by herself, she will go into work and spread highly contagious flu germs around the precinct. That is, if she even makes it that far. She’s so out of it right now that she might pass out on the way and be possibly robbed and/or murdered. Even though being murdered as a homicide detective might seem a little poetic to some, it’s not an ending I’m ready to see played out yet. Therefore, Javi, I need to you stay here and make sure she stays in there.” He pointed at the bedroom door. “Not having to deal with your sarcastic comments or Evel Knievel stunts is bonus.”

“I’m feelin’ the love, bro.”

“Good. So, can you two lovebirds stand being apart for a couple hours so Kevin can get the medical attention he needs and Kate does not end up murdered for her latte money?” Castle put on his best puppy dog face. The two detectives just looked annoyed at his nickname. He was starting to think he’d have to grovel. Fortunately, Javier sighed in resignation. 

“Fine, I’ll stay with Beckett.”

“Thank you!” Because he knew the six-year-old would hate it, Castle squished him in a bear hug. It took Javier a second longer to start struggling against him than expected but he did so vehemently. He held on until the boy started verbally protesting as well. “Wait… did you two get flu vaccinations?”

“Yeah, they had them for free at the precinct back in September,” replied Kevin. 

“Good. Let me get a get a few things ready and then we’ll go.” He pushed himself back onto his feet using the couch for leverage. Just then a knock on the door announced the arrival of breakfast. 

“I’ve got it,” called Martha. Kevin stayed on the couch, unwilling to move much. Javier not so casually made his way to Martha’s side to see what round two of food looked like. Castle thumbed through his contacts, looking for the number to Alexis’ pediatrician. He liked Dr. Rosencrantz and felt like he could trust her to be discreet and helpful. He also suspected that she would call the police the second she saw the battered little boy so he made a mental note to call the ambulance company next and have them forward the police report of the accident to her. Oh well, that’s part of the reason why he liked her so much. 

To Castle’s delight, she had an opening in an hour. He briefly explained Kevin’s condition to her so she wouldn’t be surprised by his injuries. She suggested meeting at the hospital with which she was associated instead of at her private office. It was not the same hospital where Josh Davidson worked, which suited Castle very nicely. 

Castle wasn’t feeling overly hungry himself so he only ate a few bites of his French Toast and asked Martha to save the rest for later. He called down to lobby to arrange for a Towne car and request fresh towels. They still had the blanket that the EMT had wrapped Kevin in the night before, so Castle retrieved that and snuggly wrapped the toddler in a loose cocoon for both comfort and privacy. The writer patted his pocket to check for his wallet and phone. Content that he had everything he needed, he reminded Javier again that it was his solemn duty to make sure Kate stayed in bed and then he and Kevin were off.

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, unfortunately this is a bit of a filler chapter. A _very long_ filler chapter. The story is written as one long, unending narrative so sometimes the chapters don’t break naturally and you get ones without much action. Hopefully the interaction between the characters is entertaining for a bit.
> 
> A fun bit of trivia… every time I reread a section for grammar and continuity I delete at least 100 commas. I guess I really like commas. And run-on sentences. Let me know if you have any advice on making the narrative easier to follow or whatnot. Thanks!


	12. Monday Morning - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Beckett does not listen to Castle's sage advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Twelve

Beckett limped towards consciousness, guided by the sound of a man and woman having a heated argument in Spanish. She blinked tiredly and brushed her matted hair away from her face. The room was fairly bright with the morning sun that spilled through the large picture window overlooking the skyline. Flashing colors from the large flat screen mounted above the dresser drew her focus towards the novella. Two very attractive actors were fighting, apparently about the third attractive person hovering in the corner of the screen. 

“Really, Javi, soap operas?”

“One, it’s not a soap opera, and two, nothing else even remotely interesting is on.” He was curled up against the padded headboard, surrounded by plump pillows and a spare blanket. Beckett sat up cautiously. To her satisfaction, she didn’t experience any dizziness or nausea. Her headache was a distant memory, though her body still felt lethargic. At this rate she might be able to go in to work that evening, once Castle had returned to take care of the boys. 

“Can you turn it down a few notches?” Her headache might be gone but she didn’t want to risk triggering another. 

Instead of turning it down, Javier turned it off completely. He tossed the remote towards the foot of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Honestly, a lot better. What time is it?”

“Quarter after ten.” Out of habit, she glanced at the alarm clock on the night stand. 10:16 AM. 

“Castle and Kevin aren’t back yet?”

“Writer-boy texted your phone a bit ago. The doctor ordered x-rays so he said they’d be a while yet.”

“Anything else?”

“Notta.”

“Well, I’m sure he’s fine,” said Beckett. It was as much as a reassurance to herself as to her partner. “You hungry?” Her strength felt like it was returning and eating could only help it come back more quickly. Javier shrugged - his breakfast had been much more recently consumed than hers - but followed her out of the bedroom anyway. She pulled open the narrow fridge in the kitchenette to inspect what the hotel kept stocked for their guests. There wasn’t much to choose from, though the brick of Colby Jack sounded like it would be good with crackers. She located a small cutting board and semi-sharp knife with which she began slicing the cheese. Once she had a decent amount of snack prepared, she joined Javier at the table. 

“How are you doing, Javi?” She watched him critically as he snagged a slice of cheese and paired it with a Wheat Thin. 

“I don’t know. Ideally, I would prefer to just not think about it but that’s pretty impossible.”

“Yeah.” She knew that he wouldn’t appreciate empty condolences or false promises. A strong urge to cuddle him overtook her. She pushed it away even as her confusion for having the feeling gnawed at her. She wasn’t the kind to want to show her affection physically, especially not with her partners. Javier Esposito was high on her list of most trusted people and the only one she felt she could really talk to about her PTSD from the sniper attack but that had never meant anything more than close friendship to her before. Now she was starting to feel motherly… no, sisterly… towards him. That’s what she meant. She felt like his older sister wanting to protect and provide for him. Beckett wondered if the feelings would remain after Javier and Kevin were restored to adulthood. 

Because there _would_ be an afterwards. 

She regretted initiating a conversation about feelings because now she was having too many of them. A change of topic was necessary. “So, are you going to tell me about your new girlfriend?”

Javier actually looked confused for a second, which Beckett believed because he wasn’t that great of an actor, but he quickly caught up with her train of thought. “Ah, no. Consider it payback for keeping Ryan and me in the dark about you and Castle.”

“Yes, but I had a good reason for that. At least tell me which department she works in.”

“You’re the star detective, you figure it out.”

“So there is someone.”

“Lanie told you as much.”

“Lanie knows who it is?”

“She’s been sworn to secrecy and you know she doesn’t break promises.”

Beckett frowned. “Yes. I like that quality in her a lot more when she’s keeping my secrets and not withholding others’.” Her cell phone started ringing. A quick glance revealed that it was coming from the precinct. She answered it, eager for some news or the chance to push her multiple investigations forward. 

“Detective Beckett.”

“Beckett, it’s Demming. I hope I’m not bothering you. I heard you were out today with the flu?”

“I think Castle overreacted a bit. It’s probably just a twenty-four hour bug. I’m feeling better already.”

“Glad to hear it. Listen, your captain was asking the other departments for assistance since half of her homicide detectives all decided to call in sick at the same time. Since I’m already partially familiar with the case and I’m assigned to the break-in at Castle’s loft anyway, I volunteered.”

“Thank you for your help.”

“Sure. If you’re up for it, can you fill me in a little more? I’ve studied your murder board but without the background to go with it, I’m a little lost.”

“I’m definitely up for it. Do you want to meet somewhere?”

“Not if you’re supposed to be resting in bed.”

“I’m fine, really. I have one of the boys with me and I’m sure he’ll let me know if I start fading again.” Javier nodded stoically in agreement. He asked whom she was talking to and got a gesture to hold on for his troubles. It was kind of a little petty, but she was annoyed that he wouldn’t let her in on his secret crush. “There’s a popular café just around the block from my hotel. I think it’s usually crowded around this time so we should be able to blend in easily.”

“Sounds good. Thirty minutes?”

“Perfect.” She ended the call and smiled at Javier. “We’re meeting Detective Demming in thirty to discuss the case. He’ll be helping me out since you and Kevin are playing hooky. Go get dressed.” 

“For the record, I’m supposed to be making sure you stay here and rest. Castle was very clear that you weren’t allowed to work.” Javier popped the last cracker into his mouth. “You know, in case he asks why we’re not here when he gets back.”

“I’ll tell him that you made a valiant yet ineffective attempt to keep me from the case.” They exchanged a conspiratorial grin before parting to change into daytime clothes. Beckett changed into a comfortable shirt and jeans. She pulled her brush through her hair but it didn’t want to be fixed. Ponytail it was. After making sure she had her badge, sidearm, and wallet, she exited the bedroom to check on Javier’s progress. He was waiting for her, dressed in shorts and a Yankees tee. 

“Grab your hat, too,” she said. While Javier located the cap, she composed a text message to alert Castle to their change in location. By the time he responded with an exclamation that she was supposed to be sleeping and a series of frowning emoticons, Beckett and Javier were already crossing the hotel lobby towards the exit. 

They arrived first. The café was crowded but a few tables remained open. Beckett picked out the one against the wall, from where she could see all of the exits and most of the patrons. She nudged Javier to slide into the booth before her. She sat down next to him just as Demming entered the café. He spotted them without delay.

“Beckett, Esposito.” To the burglary detective’s credit, he acted as if his old colleague from the 54th had always been the size of a first grader. 

“Demming,” the two Homicide detectives chorused. “Where do you want to begin?” asked Beckett. 

“If it’s not too taboo of a subject, I’d like to start with Esposito’s predicament.” Beckett imagined that his curiosity had been killing him all night since he learned that the real reason her partners were out sick was not poisoning but being turned into little kids. 

A waitress came to take their orders. Beckett opted for another latte while Demming went for black coffee and Javier settled for chocolate milk. Beckett wasn’t in the mood to defend letting a kid drink coffee. The waitress promised to return quickly with their drinks.

Beckett briefly explained the weird twist that the Valduerez murder case had taken when Lanie realized that the girl was actually a forty-eight year old woman. From there, she summarized the visit upstate and subsequent ‘poisoning’ that had rendered Ryan and Esposito in the same condition as the victim. She did her best to explain Nora Bellefonte’s motive but given how little she understood it, she didn’t think she did a good job. “Right now, Castle and I are working under the assumption that yesterday’s kidnapping attempt was related to the curse. Rayford Bellefonte threatened them when I had his mother arrested.”

“I don’t know,” said Demming. “I questioned the two kidnappers last night in the hospital. The one with the taser burns…”

“Electronuts,” offered Javier.

“… was able talk to me. His partner is still in the ICU.”

Beckett reached over to take the coffee creamers that Javier was using to build a wobblier version of the Tower of Pisa and put them back in their decorative container. “What did you learn?”

“The guy has never heard of Rayford Bellefonte or anyone named Bellefonte for that matter.”

“And you believed him?” Beckett couldn’t help feeling skeptical. 

“I did,” said Demming. “He’s a thug for hire. He was more than willing to talk about the person who hired him in hopes of getting a lighter sentence. He claimed that a rich looking guy with red-brown hair and a gold watch promised him a thousand dollars each if he could deliver the little boys staying with Richard Castle.”

“Why?” Javier glared down at his napkin which he was methodically turning into white confetti. Beckett placed her hand over his, ceasing the destruction of the innocent napkin. She left it there for comfort. 

“Casey Boyd, the thug, says that the anonymous man wouldn’t give him a reason beyond the two Gs.”

The drinks arrived. Beckett absently unwrapped a straw and stuck into in the milk before sliding it over to her partner. When she felt Demming’s stare on her face she looked up self-consciously. “What?”

“You said that Esposito and Ryan turned into children Friday night?”

“Yes?”

“Nothing. It just seems like you’ve already adapted pretty well to the change.” Beckett flushed at the implication that she was mothering Javier. She hid in her latte as she tried to fight back her blush. 

“If you think Beckett is enjoying playing house, you should see Castle.” Javier rolled his eyes as he took a long draw from his drink. 

“I am not enjoying this.” Beckett smacked him lightly on the shoulder. 

“Where is Castle?”

“He took Ryan in for a follow-up appointment to the accident.”

“Ah.” Demming must have sensed that the subject was a sore one for the two detectives across from him so he abandoned that line of questioning. “I sent a few unis out to canvass the area where Boyd met with the mystery man. Hopefully the man lives or works around there and someone will recognize him.”

“Any word yet on if Nora Bellefonte is cognizant?”

“I haven’t heard. I’ll call in for an update as soon as I get back to the precinct.”

“Anything suspicious turn up from CSI in Castle’s loft?”

“Nothing beyond the fingerprints. It doesn’t seem like anything is missing, which is what he and his mother indicated yesterday.”

“Maybe Rayford hired the mystery man to hire the kidnappers,” brainstormed Beckett. Her theory sounded like something Castle would come up with but he’d been right with crazier theories than that.

“Won’t know until we find the man,” said Demming. 

“If that Bellefonte guy lives anything like his mother, I doubt he’d have the dough to pay the kind of bounty that the redhead was offering,” said Javier. “I thought her house was a dump even before she pulled her stunt on Ryan and me.”

“You told me that her place was full of creepy witchy stuff, yet you still drank the lemonade.” Beckett raised a challenging eyebrow at her partner. 

“That’s Ryan’s fault.” Beckett rolled her eyes.

“Any luck on tracking down Rayford?”

“No, he’s not been to his usual hangouts since before Friday,” said Demming. “I put out an APB on him.”

Beckett’s phone chimed that she had a new text message. She glanced at it quickly. When Demming asked her if everything was alright, she responded, “Castle is on his way back with Ryan.”

“I should let you get back to your hotel then,” said Demming. “I’ll keep you posted on any progress that I make this afternoon.”

“I should be back in the precinct tomorrow. I’d come in this afternoon but Castle volunteered to go undercover at this high end hotel near Central Park that is hosting a jewelry convention. Serafina Valduerez might have been there before she was murdered but the staff won’t talk to police without a warrant. That means I’m babysitting.”

It was Javier’s turn to roll his eyes. “I’m plenty capable of taking care of myself, you know.”

“Not in the eyes of Child Protective Services.” The three detectives slid out the booth and walked towards the front of the store to pay for their drinks. Demming graciously volunteered to pick up the tab. They parted ways on the sidewalk in front of the café. Beckett was starting to feel a little fatigued again. She wouldn’t mind curling up on the couch with a book. 

She and Javier made it back to the hotel room ten minutes before Castle and Kevin returned. Martha was there, still looking fabulous even though it was clear that she’d been doing housework. The older woman had gone back to the loft to start cleaning up now that the Evidence Collection Unit was done with their sweep. “How are you feeling, Katherine?”

“Better, thank you. I plan to be back to one hundred percent tomorrow.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I don’t know what Richard will think about this but I intend to move back into the loft in the morning. I’ve never been one for hotels, even those as nice as this one.”

“Beckett could request a security detail until they arrest that Bellefonte creep,” said Javier. 

“That might be worth thinking about,” said Martha. “If he was looking for proof that the boys are staying with Richard, he certainly found it.”

“I don’t like that our staying with you is putting you in danger, Mrs. R,” said Javier. 

“What can you do?” Martha lifted her palms towards the ceiling. “Katherine, did Richard mention his idea of taking the boys up to the summer house until things calm down here?”

“He did.” Beckett tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She caught Javier’s eye and studied his face for clues to his feelings about being hidden away in the Hamptons. 

“I see. I know you’re scared to let them out of your sight for too long but it probably is the best thing,” said Martha. “Personally, a bit of fresh air and salt water sounds heavenly to me.”

“We’re supposed to be helping you solve the murder case.” Javier looked worried that Beckett might actually be considering sending them away. 

“I know. I want to keep you here but I have to put aside my own selfishness and do what’s best for you two. I never want to repeat the events of yesterday afternoon. Besides, Castle’s summer home has internet, too.” Beckett ran her hand over the top of his head. 

“Well, think on it, dear,” said Martha. “I need to get cleaned up. Richard invited me to go to the jewelry show with him.” With a warm smile, she disappeared into her private suite. Her door had barely closed by the time the door to the hallway swung open. Beckett hurried over to grab the brown paper grocery bag that Castle was about to drop as he tried to balance a toddler in one arm, the bag in his other, and use the flimsy keycard. 

“Honey, I’m home,” the writer called jokingly. Beckett deposited the bag on the counter and returned to his side so she could kiss Kevin’s cheek and Castle’s lips. Kevin offered her a small smile around the stick of the Dum-Dum he was eating. 

“What did you find out?”

“Good news. Dr. Rosencrantz said that Kevin’s x-rays looked good - no tissue or bone damage. The bruising makes it look worse than it really is. She said that he could probably lose the sling in a day or two as long as he tries not to over use his arm. There’s not much she can do for the tailbone injury except keep him on painkillers until it heals on its own.” Castle set Kevin on ground next to Javier so he could have both hands free to dig through his paper bag. “She recommended some herbal supplements and a couple multivitamins to combat his lack of appetite.”

Kevin gave her a look that promised a long argument if Castle actually tried to give him any of the stuff. Beckett smirked at him and shook her head in amusement. He turned towards his partner, to whom he offered a second sucker. Javier happily peeled off the wrapper and popped the grape flavored candy into his mouth. 

“What about you? I thought I left you in good hands but I guess I was wrong.” He swatted at Javier’s head but the six-year-old dodged the pat. 

“I’m feeling much better, Castle,” said Beckett. “I told your mother that I should be as good as new by morning. Don’t worry, I already told Detective Demming that I would take the afternoon off as well to stay with the boys while you and Martha go to the jewelry show.”

“I guess I can live with that.” 

“He put out an APB for Rayford Bellefonte and interviewed one of the kidnappers from yesterday. So far, it doesn’t look like the two crimes were related but Demming is going to track down the man who hired the kidnappers.”

Martha emerged from her room, looking every inch the diva that she was. Beckett doubted that the snooty Mr. Peller would even consider baring her for the convention. Hopefully the mother-son team would find enough information to crack the Valduerez murder case wide open. 

“Surely that’s not what you’re planning to wear, Richard.”

“I just got back from the hospital, Mother. Give me a minute to change. You won’t regret being seen with me, I promise.”

“Yes, yes.” She waved him towards the room he was sharing with Beckett. Castle shot a ‘Save Me!’ look at Beckett. She chuckled at his antics. While he got ready for his undercover work, Beckett retrieved her favorite Derek Storm novel from her overnight bag. She figured it wasn’t too early to get comfortable on the couch. 

Kevin and Javier climbed onto the opposite sofa with the remote for the large television that hung over the small fireplace. This time, the older boy found a baseball game instead of his Spanish soap opera. They were all settled by the time Castle came out of his room, looking surprisingly dapper in his hastily packed clothes. The writer kissed his girlfriend good-bye and ordered the boys to behave. A comfortable quiet fell over the room as the door closed behind mother and son. 

_to be continued…_


	13. Monday Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Beckett meets a stranger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Thirteen

“How was your appointment?” asked Javier in a low voice. Kevin leaned against his shoulder for balance as he tried to avoid putting too much weight on his injured rear. 

“I survived it. Dr. Rosencrantz was nice. She didn’t seem to notice that I wasn’t really four years old. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.”

“You were there for what, a couple hours? If you got x-rays during that time you probably weren’t around her all that long.”

“Or maybe there is nothing left of our adult bodies.” Kevin shifted to find a more comfortable position. He nearly knocked his head against Javier’s in the process. 

“Stop squirming,” the older boy complained. Kevin pouted at him but settled in nonetheless. “Don’t be stupid. Of course there’s something left of our adult selves. Our memories and ability to reason like adults are still good.”

“I don’t know about you but my concentration has been shot to hell these past few days.”

“It’s the stress. Besides, you’ve never had that long of an attention span.”

“Says the guy who gives up on Madden halfway through the tournament.”

“Bro, it was three in the morning and we had to be up for work in two hours. That was me being responsible.”

“I still think that it was to the point where we’d have been better off just pulling the all-nighter.”

“You were about to lose anyway. I saved you from the humiliation.”

“I was up by seventeen points!” Kevin frowned at his partner. “I think your memories are adversely affected.”

“I wish your tendency to be annoying was affected.” Javier shifted his own position minutely so that Kevin’s slight weight rested more evenly against his side. Kevin yawned and dropped his head to rest on his partner’s shoulder. “Seriously though, the doctor gave you a clean bill of health?”

“Besides the obvious, yeah.”

“I think you should take the herbal stuff Castle got you.”

“Not you, too.” Kevin groaned exaggeratedly. 

“You usually eat like a pig, bro. What’s up with the hunger strike?”

“I don’t eat like a pig, though you would know if someone did. I’m not on a hunger strike. Nothing sounds good and I haven’t been hungry, that’s all.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about the food being spiked again. That witch from upstate is the only one into that kind of shit.”

“I don’t think the food is spiked, Javi.”

“I told Beckett it’s your fault we’re in this mess. ‘Oh, Ms. Bellefonte, a glass of lemonade sounds wonderful.’” He misquoted his partner in a high falsetto voice.

“Thanks for that,” said Kevin sardonically. 

“So what else is bugging you?”

“Nothing.”

“You’ve had this off vibe about you since getting back from the doc’s.”

“Gee, you sure know how to make people feel good about themselves.”

“Well?”

Kevin sighed. He stared blindly across the room for a minute, trying to find his words. Apparently he got lost in thought along the way. Javier shrugged his shoulder to jostle his partner back into their conversation. “I don’t know how I’m going to pay Castle back for the x-rays. I couldn’t use my own insurance and obviously I’m not on Castle’s policy.”

“We’ll figure it out,” promised Javier. “It’ll probably be a couple thousand, right?”

“If I’m lucky. There goes my new home theatre system.”

“I’ll help you.”

“It’s not your problem, either.”

“I didn’t say it was. I’m looking forward to kicking your ass on PlayStation with surround sound.”

“Keep dreaming, Javi.”

“Anyway, keep track of what Castle and Beckett spend on us. I’m not interested in being in debt to anyone, especially not Castle.”

“Agreed.” They were quiet for a minute, each reflecting on their current financial situations. “Castle tried to question me on your new girlfriend,” Kevin said eventually.

“I don’t have a new girlfriend.”

Kevin glossed over his statement. “He’s determined to figure out who at the precinct could possibly interest you more than Lanie. For some reason, he thinks I would know whom you’re ogling.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That I can’t think of anyone at the 12th hotter than Lanie.” Javier raised an incredulous eyebrow at his partner. “In a strictly aesthetic and platonic sense,” Kevin added quickly. “I think you made her up to feel better about Lanie dumping you.”

“That’s what you told Castle?” Javier poked Kevin’s knee where it pressed against the side of his leg. 

“He wouldn’t let it go. Beckett’s curious, too. Though, maybe she’s just a little protective of her best friend.”

“Lanie’s the one who told Beckett about this mystery person, anyway,” complained Javier. “If anyone made it up, it was her.”

“Lanie wouldn’t make up something as ridiculous as that.”

“Whose side are you on, anyway?”

“I’m Switzerland, bro,” said Kevin. “Can’t you give Castle something to get him to leave me alone?”

“It’s none of his business.”

“Since when has that stopped his prying?”

The familiar sound of a phone camera shuttering drew their combined attention across the room. Beckett didn’t look the least bit repentant for being caught stealing candid shots of her partners. “Beckett…” whined Javier. 

“Sorry, you two just look too cute right now. What are you gossiping about over there?”

“How to commit the perfect murder when you’re only four feet tall.” Javier imagined that Beckett would have expected them to jump apart at her teasing. Unfortunately for her, Kevin was warm against his side and the comfortable weight on his shoulder helped anchor him in the tumultuous storm that had overtaken his life since Friday. Kevin must have felt the same. He didn’t do any more than shift slightly when his injuries started to protest his static position. 

“No such thing, sugar.”

Javier made a gross face at the endearment. Kevin decided to change the subject. “How are you feeling, Beckett?”

“Better all the time.” She dog-eared her place in the book and set it on the couch beside her as she sat up. “I wonder if it wasn’t just something I ate. Javi, you were ill for a few minutes, too.”

“When were you sick?” asked Kevin. When Javier turned to meet his eyes they nearly brushed noses. 

“I wasn’t, really.” Kevin frowned at him but Javier wouldn’t give up anything else. Beckett stood up and crossed around the coffee table to the second sofa. She reached for her younger partner. Kevin shied away, trying to tuck himself between Javier and the back of the couch. The female detective narrowed her eyes in challenge. 

“I’ll give you more Tylenol,” she cajoled. She held Kevin’s gaze steadily. She could win the stare down any day of the week, no matter how big or small the Irish detective was at the time. As expected, he capitulated and shifted away from Javier so Beckett could lift him up and carry him into the kitchenette. She set him gently on the counter as she made good on her promise for pain medication. Unlike Castle, she didn’t hover, letting him work out for himself how to lift the glass of water to his lips with the limited use of his left arm. 

Javier followed them. He was starting to feel hungry again. They hadn’t eaten with Demming and when Castle left to scope out the jewelry show, no one had been thinking about lunch. He mentioned as much to Beckett. 

“You’re right,” she agreed. “I’m starting to feel a little stir-crazy anyway. How does some fresh air sound?”

“I don’t think Castle wants us to leave the hotel,” said Kevin in a small voice. He’d lost a couple drops of water to the front of his shirt but they’d dry on their own after about two minutes in the arid July air. Javier preferred it that way - he didn’t miss the clingy damp humidity at all. 

Beckett pressed her fingers into Kevin’s right side, eliciting a startled laugh at the ticklish sensation. “Castle, huh? Guess what, baby boy; I make the rules.” She continued her assault, using one hand to keep him safely balanced on the laminate counter and the other to seek out the places that made her captive squeal the loudest. 

“No, no, no, no, stop!” Kevin protested between gasping giggles. Javier stood back and grinned, happy to let his partner bear the brunt of Beckett’s rare show of affection. She finally relented when Kevin’s face started pinking. He took a minute to catch his breath and tried to glare at his tormentor. It had the same effect as a kitten hissing at its adversary. 

“What do you think, Javi? We could go up to Central Park. I’m sure it’s crowded enough to discourage any thugs from bothering us.” Beckett brushed her hand over his dark hair. He made sure to keep a wary eye on her, in case she wasn’t done ‘playing.’ “Maybe your football friends from Saturday will be there again.”

“I’m game,” Javier replied. He wanted to get out of the stuffy room, too. He’d never been one for inaction. 

“Good. Go get your caps.” Javier obediently went looking for the baseball caps while Beckett filled a beach bag with bottled water and crackers. Kevin helped by complaining when he spotted her packing the herbal supplements Castle had purchased.

xXx

Beckett took a deep breath of the exhaust clogged air outside the hotel and felt like she could finally breathe a little easier. Only a few minutes after she’d reclined on the couch to read her book a feeling of unease had started pushing at the back of her mind. She tried to ignore it but it grew until she thought she couldn’t stand to be in the hotel for another minute. Interacting with the boys had distracted her a bit, though the tension hadn’t really started to ebb until they passed over the threshold of the entrance lobby. It didn’t leave her completely. It just didn’t feel like an elephant sitting on her chest anymore.

Castle would call her reckless and irresponsible for bringing the boys out of the temporary safety of the hotel. She knew it herself but Beckett made it a habit to push her limits and skirt the fine line between caution and complete disregard for her safety. She felt a little guilty for dragging her partners along with her. She appeased her conscious by promising herself to be extra vigilant and by texting Castle so at least he’d know where they were. The hotel with the jewelry convention was close enough to the park that they might even run into each other.

They crossed the street by way of a crosswalk, which they were able to transverse at a leisurely pace instead of risking their lives darting between vehicles. Beckett held a small hand in each of her own as they walked towards the subway station. The memory of the thugs entering the small space between her and her boys the day before taunted her. There would be no gap between them today. 

She made sure to keep her pace slow, knowing that Javier and Kevin had to take more steps than her to cover the same distance. Kevin, either putting on the bravest charade she’d ever seen out of someone his size or still enjoying the affects of the Tylenol, did a good job keeping up with his partners. She was glad he was willing to walk. The last of her morning illness lingered in the form of muscle fatigue and she doubted she’d be able to carry him very far. He’d taken quite well to being carted around, something that she and Javier would be sure to tease him about when this was all over. 

They rode the subway without incident and emerged topside from a different station than the one used by Castle. She hadn’t forgotten that Javier was hungry. Beckett herself didn’t have much of an appetite so she was more than willing to let Javier pick whatever he wanted from one of the street vendors that lined the edges of Central Park. Even Kevin surprised them both by asking for a pretzel. Beckett ended up eating half of it but she felt victorious nonetheless. See, she could take care of her boys just as well as Castle. 

The long trip to the park wore Beckett out more than she expected and Kevin was starting to look a little peaked as well. She commandeered an empty plastic bench that was partially shaded by a towering white oak tree. In its branches, squirrels chattered noisily about how much they disliked the humans wandering around beneath them. The birds chirped in counterbalance as they swooped between the boughs. 

She opened her Derek Storm novel to the page she’d marked, though she barely glanced at the book. Her attention was divided between thinking about her numerous unsolved mysteries and watching Kevin and Javier play out some imaginary game. To her vast amusement, they appeared to be playing Cops and Robbers. In their case, it was probably Cops and Murderers. She took a few more covert photos of them.

“They’re beautiful.”

Beckett nearly jumped out of her skin at the softly spoken words that came from behind her and to the left. She cursed her racing heart as she turned to look at the stranger. Clearly, this woman would know beauty when she saw it. Beckett had never seen a more stunning woman in her early fifties outside of a movie screen. The stranger had dark blonde hair which was streaked with silver. It was styled in a way that made the gray look intentional and sophisticated. Her complexion was just dark of pale and without a single imperfection. A perfectly proportioned nose and mouth sat below large green eyes in a handsome face with a strong jaw line. The woman was as tall as Beckett and held herself like royalty, though her outfit was understated in its elegance.

“Um, thank you,” said the detective. She hoped that this woman didn’t hear the stutter in her words. “They’re not mine.” She had no idea what prompted her to divulge that little bit of information. She wasn’t embarrassed to be seen with her partners. She realized after a moment that she’d distanced herself in humility. She couldn’t take any credit for what had drawn this woman’s attention to the boys. 

“I know,” the stranger said. She smiled softly at Beckett. “May I?” Beckett nodded slowly. She found herself sitting up a little straighter and tucking her loose hair behind her ear self-consciously. The stranger regally sat down, smoothing her linen pants down with small hands once settled. 

“Kate Beckett,” the detective said as a way of introduction. She purposefully left off her title. People usually reacted adversely to being confronted by a police officer and it wasn’t worth making things awkward with someone who possibly just wanted to comment on another woman’s cute kids. 

“Bianca Castova.” Despite her exotic sounding name, the older woman spoke with no discernible accent. “Please though, I go by only Bianca.”

“Call me Kate, then.”

“Kate is short for…?”

“Katherine.” Beckett started to feel a little uneasy. Her unease stemmed not from some dangerous or threatening vibe, but rather the fact that she wanted to tell this woman everything and hold nothing back. Beckett felt that way about _no one_ , not even Castle, and especially not beautiful women she’d known for thirty seconds. She glanced over to where she’d last seen the boys play-acting. They had also noticed the stranger and were watching the two females guardedly. 

“Katherine is a good name,” said Bianca. “Names have always interested me. What are theirs?” She gestured towards the boys. 

Beckett’s mind caught up with her mouth just before she spouted out the requested information. “Sean and Miguel.” The names tasted sour on her tongue, which was made worse by the knowing look she received from Bianca. Beckett squirmed uncomfortably.

Protective Javier probably sensed her discomfort. Without a thought for his own well-being, he started towards the two females with a no-nonsense expression. Kevin shadowed him faithfully. Javier’s walk progressively slowed the closer he came until he stopped altogether and stared at Bianca openly. Now that the older woman’s attention was off of her and on the boys, Beckett regained some of her bearings. She easily read the confusion and minute fear in the Hispanic boy’s face as he studied their guest. Bianca returned his gaze confidently, letting him look his fill. 

Kevin broke the electric silence first. “Are you a witch?” he asked distrustfully. 

“Kevin!” Beckett felt her face flush. So much for hiding the identity of the boys but he should know better than to just _ask someone if she is a witch_. Still fixated on the stranger, neither male even acknowledged her reprimand. 

“Yes.”

The single word confession broke all of the current stalemates. Beckett’s internal struggle between being drawn towards this woman and being concerned by how unrestrained she felt was soundly won by her natural distrust of strangers. She had to get them away from this crazy woman before something horrible happened. How could she have been so stupid? Had she ever possessed the sort of luck that would allow her to bring the boys out of hiding for more than five seconds without drawing the interest of unsavory sorts?

On the other hand, Javier and Kevin seemed to take her response as confirmation of something only they could sense, which somehow equated to honesty and trustworthiness. Was she casting another spell on them, to make them complacent and unable to recognize her as a threat? How did Beckett stop such a thing?

Beckett jumped up from her seat and grabbed each of them by the first limb to which she could latch on. Kevin cried out in real pain when she pulled on his injured shoulder. Javier was startled by the rough treatment but didn’t fight her as Beckett pulled them away. Through it all, Bianca maintained her composure and sat peacefully. “I must say, Nora Bellefonte did a good job with them. You can hardly tell they were in their mid-thirties less than a week ago.”

Beckett froze when she heard the calmly spoken words. She turned around slowly, debating on which kid to release so she could reach for her gun. The decision was made for her when Kevin wretched himself out of her grasp and stumbled a few steps away. He knelt in the tall grass, clutching his bad arm tightly with his good hand and trying to hold back the fat tears collecting in the corners of his eyes. 

“Gods, Kevin, I’m so sorry,” Beckett said. She dropped to her knees next to him and cuddled him into her lap. She wished she could take the hurt away with just a touch. He sniffled loudly. She could feel the hot tears running down the side of her thumb as she pressed his head against her shoulder in what was supposed to be a comforting position. Javier sat down next to her. He patted Kevin’s shin awkwardly, probably wishing he could impart healing as well. 

The sweet smell of lavender and sandalwood washed over them as Bianca knelt facing Beckett. The older woman paid no heed to the possibility of grass stains as she pressed her cream colored linen slacks into the ground. “Let me,” she said in a warm voice. Beckett was helpless to stop Bianca from easing Kevin out of her arms and onto the soft grass between their knees. Bianca pulled a small pouch out her purse, from which she drew a single green leaf. There was no time for Beckett to stop her from pushing the leaf into Kevin’s mouth and holding his jaw shut with one hand while she positioned her other hand a few millimeters above his shoulder. 

Beckett was transfixed as the toddler began to glow faintly. He stopped crying and lay limply on his back as the witch worked. It seemed like only a minute passed before Bianca moved her hand from Kevin’s shoulder to his hip. After another minute had gone, Bianca broke the spell and the glowing faded. She rolled Kevin onto his side with his back towards Beckett and instructed him to spit out the leaf. He did so, crinkling his nose at the aftertaste. 

“What did you do?” asked Beckett in barely more than a whisper. 

“This is my attempt to show you that I mean no ill will towards any of you,” replied the witch. “His shoulder and lower back will not bother him anymore.”

Beckett pulled up the back of Kevin’s shirt so she could see the injured joint for herself. The dark bruises that had covered nearly his entire left side were gone, leaving unmarked pale skin that was baby soft to the touch. She let his shirt drop and pulled him back into her arms. “I… thank you,” she said hesitantly. 

“You cast another spell on him?” asked Javier. He was back to studying the witch critically.

“Not exactly.” Bianca retrieved a business card from her purse and handed it to Javier. Beckett watched him as he inspected the front of card, which held only a single ten digit phone number. The back was blank. “You are a little overwhelmed right now. Call me later when you have time to speak.” Beckett nodded dumbly. “Katherine, there is more involved in this devilry than you know yet. Keep them close to you. More will come looking for them and you can trust no one.”

Bianca stood up gracefully and absently brushed at her pants. As far as Beckett could tell, the grass and earth hadn’t even bothered to try messing with her slacks. She spared another look at her younger partner, on the verge of passing out on her. She had many more questions to ask the woman and she didn’t want to wait. However, by the time she looked up again, the witch was gone. 

Beckett’s nerves felt so frayed they burned. She felt on the verge of hyperventilating. She clutched Kevin’s relaxed body tightly against her chest and stared about her frantically. Suddenly, everyone in the crowded park was no longer a possible murderer but something much more nefarious and supernatural. Beckett imagined that anyone who glanced at her was plotting a way to steal her partners. The worse part of this whole situation was that she had no idea why. Why had Nora Bellefonte turned Ryan and Esposito into little kids? Why had Rayford Bellefonte really broken into Castle’s loft? Why had an unknown man hired two thugs to kidnap the boys? Why had Bianca Castova, another witch, sought her out and warned her to be leery of even more dangerous people to come? Why had Serafina Valduerez been murdered?

She vaguely felt Javier tugging on her arm. His voice as he called to her sounded like it was echoing from the other end of a very long tunnel. Her mind wouldn’t focus on any one thing. Her eyes darted about the park, suspicious of everyone. Javier shifted to pulling at her jacket and he kept talking, his tone never losing its urgency. She could barely make out his words through the pounding that had taken up residence in her head and the ones that did make it through made no sense. 

It felt like she was lost in her paranoia for an eternity and also only a microsecond. A small voice in the back of her mind, which she would later identify as her voice of reason, pushed her to snap out of her trance because she was still in the middle of Central Park with two little boys who needed her to be strong and rational. She slowly turned to look at Javier when he called her name extra loudly. She barely registered pain as his little fingers dug into her lower arm through the thin material of her jacket. She recognized the salty wet tracks on his cheeks paired with the scared look in his chocolate eyes and knew instinctively that those signs meant something bad. As for what to do about it, she couldn’t figure out. 

And then he was gone. She screamed at him to come back when he suddenly jumped up and darted away. She couldn’t understand why he didn’t listen to her until she realized that she was screaming in her head and her mouth wasn’t actually open. Beckett could do nothing but watch as Javier ran from her. The six-year-old nearly crashed into the legs of a man who was hurrying in their direction, followed by a woman whose head was on fire. 

No, not fire. Just very red. Martha. Beckett knew the two people coming towards her, bringing her little boy back. The man crouched in front of her, his face very close to hers. She thought she could drown in his familiar blue eyes. Unlike when Javier tried to speak to her, when Castle spoke she could hear him clearly. The park full of people she couldn’t trust, in the middle of a metropolis full of people she couldn’t trust, faded away until all she could see was the one person she _could_ trust. 

“Kate. Kate, can you hear me?”

“Castle.” The sound of her own voice saying his name broke through the rest of her trance and she shuddered back to full awareness. “Castle, you’re here.”

“Yes, and so are you. I promise I’m only going to say this once. _I told you so_. Maybe now you’ll take me seriously when I ask you keep the boys in the hotel room where they’ll be safe.” 

“I’m… I’m sorry. It was just so stuffy in there and I couldn’t breathe. I needed to get out of there.” As her cognitive abilities came fully back online, she came to the startling realization that Bianca might have been responsible for smoking the detectives out of the hotel so she could orchestrate the meeting in the park. She felt foolish for falling for the trick. 

“Are you all right now? Javi said he thought you were having a panic attack.”

“I think so. I just have a headache.” Beckett let Castle take the sleeping Kevin from her and hand the toddler off to Martha. The experienced grandmother cooed at him until he stopped fussing from being moved and settled back into sleep against her shoulder. Castle took Beckett’s hand and pulled her to her feet. She wavered for a split second but her balance returned quickly. Her headache persisted but it wasn’t something she couldn’t handle. 

“Can you walk on your own?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Castle left her standing by herself when he crouched down again, bringing himself to eye level with Javier. Castle took one of the small, tanned hands in both of his much larger ones. The little boy’s frame still shuddered when he inhaled deeply. Javier used his free hand to wipe across his face, trying to hide the evidence of his tears. “I thought you were too butch for tears, Espo,” teased the writer. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Javier in forced bravado. “It’s allergies.”

“They are a bitch this time of year.” Castle drew the boy into a bear hug and didn’t let go until Javier pushed back against him, a good two minutes later. Castle returned to his full height, though he kept one of Javier’s hands folded in his own. “Mother, you okay?”

“Yes, dear. He’s really not that heavy.” The stage actress led the way across the grass to the nearest subway entrance. Over her shoulder, Beckett could just see the top of Kevin’s blond head. Castle motioned for her to follow Martha while he brought up the rear, pulling along an exhausted Javier. 

Beckett could sense Castle’s conflicting emotions and the feeling of not being able to breathe returned as guilt pressed her down. Castle was relieved that they were all right. In fact, they were physically better off than when they had left. For all the emotional turmoil she had caused in Beckett, Bianca had done them the favor of healing Kevin’s injuries. On the other hand, Castle was justifiably pissed at her. He had asked her to stay in the hotel and keep an eye on the boys for just a couple of hours while he went and investigated a jewelry convention for her murder case. Instead, he received a tearful phone call from Javier saying that they met another witch in the park and Beckett was freaking out. In his shoes, she’d be spitting fire by now. She was extremely grateful that Castle was keeping a lid on his anger. 

In an attempt to extend an olive branch to her boyfriend, Beckett dropped back so she walked beside Castle. She took his free hand. His fingers curled around hers, indicating that while he was mad, she hadn’t done anything unforgivable. Still, he didn’t look at her. She took the opportunity to lean in and whisper into his ear. “I think you’re right about taking the boys up to the Hamptons.” 

He did look at her then. Instead of anger, she read worry and uncertainty in his expression. “Can we talk about this tonight? I’ve had a change of heart, too.” That surprised Beckett. She agreed and then spent the rest of the trip back to the hotel pondering his words. 

_to be continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a new character. She’ll be back in later chapters. Let me know if you have any preliminary thoughts on her.
> 
> Madden NFL belongs to EA. PlayStation belongs to Sony. I know Esposito has an Xbox (Microsoft), but I can’t remember if they ever mention a specific platform that Ryan has. I play on a PS3, so I went with the system with which I’m most familiar. I now understand why the boys seem to like that game so much… I just took my Wolverines to a BCS Championship on NCAA 14. Yeah for new addictions.


	14. Monday Evening & Tuesday Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the boys don't want to go to the Hamptons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Fourteen

Once again in the safety of the hotel suite, Castle distracted himself by putting the sofa bed back together while his mother continued to rock Kevin, trying to keep him asleep. Kate helped him, obviously needing the busy work to keep her mind from wandering too far. When the bed was ready, Martha was finally able to relinquish her charge to the warm cocoon of blankets. Javier climbed onto his side of the bed and yawned widely as he settled onto the thin mattress. Kate’s hands shook slightly as she tucked the blankets around Javier. The six-year-old seemed mostly over the incident and endured the attention patiently, as his senior partner tried to assuage her remorse and earn forgiveness that she probably already had. Martha disappeared into her room, leaving Castle and Kate to wait for Javier to join his partner in sleep. Despite the slightly plastic feel to the mattress and the numerous hard springs, Javier’s fatigue overcame him swiftly so it wasn’t long before Castle was offering his hand to Kate. He could feel the tenseness of her whole frame through the delicate grip of her fingers. Together they retired to the second bedroom. 

Castle worried that the necessary discussion regarding taking Kevin and Javier to his home in the Hamptons might escalate into an emotional brawl. His ire at Kate’s decision to take the boys to the park by herself still lingered in the back of his mind and in order to keep it in check, he had had to consciously remind himself that the outing hadn’t done any permanent damage to anyone. The memory of the fear that had gripped him as he tried to make sense of Javier’s tear-garbled words still hovered at the edge of his thoughts. The writer pushed away the image of Kate clutching the blond’s lax body and his knee-jerk conclusion that the youngest detective had been hurt again or worse. Javier had told him over the phone about the witch healing his partner’s injuries and how that event led directly into Kate’s mental break. Still, Castle hadn’t been able to reconcile what he was seeing with what Javier had told him until he was kneeling in front of Kate and had a clear view of the toddler’s peaceful face. 

Despite his feelings, he could tell that Kate felt guilty about the danger she could have put her partners in and frustrated at her own reaction to the new witch. Castle wouldn’t have thought it was possible for the detective to suffer a panic attack if he hadn’t just witnessed it with his own eyes. Sure, she had come close to breaking in the past but she’d always managed to pull herself back from the brink in time.

That was the reason why Castle wasn’t sure that hiding the boys away in the Hamptons was a good idea. The original idea was for Martha to stay with them while Castle returned to the city to assist Kate. On the way to the jewelry show, his mother had wisely advised him that the boys would not take kindly to being dumped off with someone they barely knew. It would only make sense for the writer to stay with them. However, that left Kate alone in the city, an idea that Castle disliked just as much. 

“Castle,” said Kate in a small voice. She hovered near the foot of the bed, trying to gauge his temperament. It wasn’t like her to avoid confrontation so her push to start the conversation right away came as no surprise. “What made you change your mind about the Hamptons?”

Castle deflected. “What made you change your mind?” He slipped out of his dress slacks and button down shirt. Instead of hanging them up he draped them over the back of a chair to be dealt with later. 

Kate took a deep breath and ran her fingers through the shorter locks that framed her face and had escaped her hair tie. As she responded, she pulled the elastic out completely to let her hair fan out across her shoulders. “Too many people are suddenly interested in the boys and it takes them no time at all to find us in the city. Between Rayford Bellefonte, whoever tried to kidnap them yesterday, and now this new witch, I don’t know how to keep them safe without completely hiding away.” Castle could tell that it was difficult for the independent woman to admit her weakness. 

“It’s true that we seem to collide with some new baddie every time we turn around,” he said. “The guys would have a little more freedom at the coast.”

“So why don’t you think it’s a good idea?”

“I think it’s an excellent idea to send Javier and Kevin up to the Hamptons. I think it’s a horrible idea to send them away without at least one of us. My mother would drive them crazy within a day and vice versa. Besides that, I don’t think I could stomach the idea of not keeping an eye on them ourselves.” Castle would never admit it to his girlfriend but after the events of that afternoon, he would only feel comfortable if he took care of them himself. 

“You’re right,” said Kate. “They probably won’t like the idea anyway and they especially won’t like it if they feel like they’re being abandoned in a far off place.”

“But that means I’ll be at the coast with them and you’ll be here by yourself trying to work multiple cases and dodge the ill will of who knows what.” Castle frowned deeply.

“I won’t be by myself,” countered Kate. She undid her bra under her loose shirt and tossed it onto the chair with Castle’s clothes. “Demming is already helping out and there are other homicide detectives at the 12th. They’re not as good as my partners but they’ll make do. As for the other stuff, I can take care of myself, you know.” She tossed her jeans onto the floor before sliding onto the bed and curling up next to the writer. 

Castle took a deep breath and sent up a silent prayer that Kate wouldn’t bite his head off for his next question. “What about your panic attack in the park?” 

Kate colored slightly and scowled. Castle could tell that her anger was directed inward so he let himself breath a little more easily. “I just got overwhelmed for a minute. Honestly, if I hadn’t had Javier and Kevin with me, I probably wouldn’t have reacted so poorly. Besides, now that I know there are more witches out there looking for us, I will be better prepared the next time I meet one.”

“I know you’re strong, Kate. Still, I worry about you.”

“I know,” she said softly. “Like I said, I won’t be alone here in the city and your summer home is only two hours away. It won’t be difficult for me to drive up there when need be and as soon as I can pry the cure for this curse out of Nora Bellefonte, or her son comes up with something, you can bring them back.”

“Knowing that you’ll be working with Detective Demming doesn’t actually make me feel better,” complained Castle. 

Kate laughed with genuine amusement. “I can’t believe you still feel threatened by him. That ended forever ago and I’m one hundred percent committed to you now. Not only that, how could I leave you when you’re taking care of my kids?”

“Can I tell Javier that you think he’s your kid?”

“No.” Kate picked up one of the spare pillows and chucked it at her boyfriend. “They’re barely tolerating the way we treat them as it is. Javier will murder both of us and Kevin will probably help him.”

“They’re not going to like this plan,” said Castle practically. He could already imagine the pushback that Kate would get when she explained it to them. 

“Can you take some of your AV stuff up there so you can set up a murder board and they can follow along with me? The guys are very good at tracking down leads and working out the nitty-gritty parts of a case. I could use their help with that, even long-distance.”

“Yes, I can do that. When do you want to spring the news on them?”

“The sooner you can get them out of the city, the better,” said Kate. “I want to get an early start tomorrow. Sitting in this hotel room all day without pushing forward on the case was unbearable. Do you think you can leave in the morning?”

“Sure. We’ll go back to the loft to pack new bags and check on things, which won’t take long.”

“Good,” said Kate. 

“Wait a minute.” Castle looked over at his girlfriend suspiciously. “You are going to be here in the morning to explain this to _your_ partners, right?”

“If they’re up before I leave,” she answered evasively. 

“No, I don’t think so. You’re not leaving me here alone to face their wrath at being shipped out of town.”

“You’ll be fine, Castle.” Kate cupped his face and kissed him gently. “They’ve been angling for an invitation up to your place anyway.” Castle was not appeased. Kate rolled over and pulled the comforter up to her chin, effectively ending the conversation. The writer huffed as he shifted to a comfortable position behind her. Seriously, the things he had to put up with for love. 

Castle draped his arm over Kate’s waist as she drifted off to sleep. He continued to plan the last minute vacation until he fell asleep himself, only half terrified at what the morning would bring.

xXx

Castle awoke to a persistent poking and his name being repeated in an annoyingly high-pitched voice. He blinked a few times to allow his eyes to adjust to the bright light streaming in from the uncovered window. His tormentor, mistakenly assuming that the movement meant Castle was going to rise anytime soon, sat back to wait. Castle yawned widely as he reached for Kate’s abandoned pillow. He rolled onto his side, away from the pest, and hid his face from the sun with the heavenly smelling pillow.

“Castle.” The poking started again. The writer wondered if Kate would actually arrest him for the murder of her junior detective once he explained his motive. Surely she would understand and be sympathetic. Speaking of the lead detective…

“Where is your mother?” he asked after lifting the pillow and returning to lying on his back. 

“She left for work an hour ago.” Damn, he’d hoped that the question would irritate Javier enough to make him go away. Instead, the nuisance decided to play along. “I’m hungry.”

“What happened to being a self-sufficient adult who didn’t need to be taken care of like a little girl?”

“Someone put the cereal boxes in the upper cabinets. I’m sure Kevin and I could get them down ourselves, with a clever use of precariously balanced chairs and a stack of phone books for a little added height, but with Kevin just done with his shoulder injury, we thought you’d appreciate the opportunity to circumvent another catastrophe.”

_Son of a_ … Javier wasn’t biting at any of his jibes and the worst part was that Castle himself had put the boxes out of reach without even thinking of the boys’ vertical limitations. “Fine. What time is it?”

“Eight.”

“Where’s _my_ mother?”

“Haven’t seen her yet today.” It was possible that Martha was still sleeping or had already departed herself. He knew that she was anxious to get back to the loft. They all were. Castle sat up with a groan, hoping it would spark a small flame of remorse in Javier for dragging him out of bed. No dice. 

In the kitchen, Castle flipped through the cupboards. Nothing really sounded appetizing to him that he could make with the limited supplies in the hotel kitchenette. In the end, he pulled down the two boxes of cereal and set them on the table. He started a pot of coffee before locating two clean bowls. The silverware drawer was void of spoons but a few used ones rested in the bottom of the sink. He doubted anyone would die from eating off of them. He quickly rinsed off the flatware. He swung by the refrigerator for the half gallon of milk on his way to the dinette set. Javier climbed onto one of the chairs and reached for the Count Chocula. He poured himself a heaping bowlful. 

“Are you going to eat all of that?” Castle eyed the bowl skeptically. 

“Yes.” Javier pulled the bowl closer to himself possessively. With a roll of his eyes, Castle went to tend to his fresh pot of coffee. The first sip of the steaming brew cleared away a significant portion of the storm clouds following him around. By the end of the mug, he’d be back to his usual sunny disposition. 

“Kevin, get over here,” he called. Castle took his seat at the table, kitty-corner to Javier. The little blond turned off the television hanging above the fireplace and slowly walked over to see what the writer wanted. Castle picked him and settled the boy on his lap. The kid was going to eat, even if Castle had to jam the breakfast down his throat. 

He picked up the second box, the slightly healthier Honey Nut Cheerios. Castle couldn’t help the smug smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth as he poured the milk over the appropriately sized pile of cereal in the bottom of the bowl. “You’ll like this,” he said, picking up the spoon and sticking it in the bowl. “See, honey and milk. It’s like I was thinking of you when I got this.” 

“Jerk.”

“Brat.” Castle held the spoon up to Kevin’s mouth, his other hand cupped beneath it to catch any milk that tried to drip off the bottom. 

“I can do it,” snapped the toddler. Castle shoved the food into his mouth while it was open, which earned him a murderous puppy dog expression that Kevin twisted around to deliver. Castle didn’t care - the boy was chewing and eventually swallowed. Castle handed him the spoon so he could continue to feed himself. The writer reached for his coffee mug and checked on Javier’s progress. He was impressed. Javier had put a sizable dent in his cocoa mountain and was still going strong. Poor thing really had been starving. 

The coffee loosened his appetite by that time. Castle took over for Kevin when the toddler had eaten as much as he could. The Cheerios were kind of soggy by then but still tasted pretty good. Between bites, Castle brought up the somewhat dreaded topic of conversation. “Kate and I were talking last night.”

“That’s what they call it these days?”

Castle nearly choked on the milk and had to swallow quickly. Kevin giggled at his partner’s annoying quip. “That sounds completely wrong coming out of a six-year-old’s mouth. Little kids do not understand innuendo.” Javier smiled sweetly at him. “Anyway, given the recent string of incidents concerning you two, we have agreed that it is probably in everyone’s best interest if we get out of the city for a few days.”

“And go where? Hawaii?”

“Not exactly.” Castle gave Javier a look implying that he should say something useful or shut up.

“I don’t want to,” said Kevin. He flopped back against Castle, the back of his hard head smashing into the writer’s collarbone painfully. 

“You don’t even know where yet.”

“If it’s not Manhattan, no thank you.”

“At least hear me out,” Castle pleaded. “We’re just talking about my place in the Hamptons. It’s two hours away. We can set up our own murder board and work right alongside Kate, without having to worry about witchy people trying to steal you away.”

“We can do that here.”

“The worrying about witchy people was the big part of the problem, kid.”

“Are you even really giving us a choice?” Castle sighed at the petulant tone of Kevin’s voice. While they operated under the pretense that Javier and Kevin were capable of making their own decisions, they all knew that the two cursed detectives were really at the mercy of whatever Castle and Beckett decided for them. It wasn’t that they _weren’t_ capable, but that they tended to base their decisions on being in their thirties instead of little kids.

“If we stay in New York, you two can never leave this hotel room again, even if Kate or I are with you. I’m not going to haul all my fancy spy equipment up here so you’ll be in the dark about Kate’s progress on the case. You’ll have to sleep on the foldout couch indefinitely and never have any real privacy.”

“Fine.” Kevin crossed his arms over his chest and pouted. It would have been cute if it weren’t Castle with whom he was butting heads. 

“Don’t be stupid, Kevin,” said Javier. Castle blinked in surprise at his unexpected ally. “We can’t live like that. Who knows how long this curse is going to last?”

“Apparently forever.”

“Not forever,” said Castle. “We’ll figure this out, I promise. We just need to go somewhere safe in the meantime.”

“If Bellefonte found your loft, why can’t he find your summer home, too?”

“Because one, he doesn’t know I have a place in the Hamptons and two, even if he did, it’d be a lot more difficult to track down which one than it was for him to find my apartment.”

“I bet I could figure out which house is yours without much difficulty.” 

“Well, you are a hacker and Bellefonte doesn’t have all your cheater NYPD toys,” said Castle. He tightened his arms around the glowering blond. “So yes, you do have a choice and now you know the conditions for staying in New York City.”

“What about Beckett? You’re okay with leaving her here alone?” Kevin looked at him challengingly. 

“If it makes you feel better, you can call her every hour, okay? Kate is the most self-sufficient, intelligent, and capable woman I know. She will be able to handle herself. She can come up to the house whenever she wants. Lanie, too.” He added the last part for Javier. 

“Were you in the park yesterday?” asked Javier, questioning Castle’s claim that Beckett could handle herself. Castle made a hand gesture at him to close his trap without ever looking away from Kevin. 

“We’ll swing by your apartments and get anything you want to bring with us. As an added bonus, we can drive the Ferrari. So will you please agree to come to the Hamptons for a few days while we figure out why all of the witches in New York are suddenly trying to find you two?” He gave Kevin his best pleading look. It barely worked on Kate, who professed to love him, so he wasn’t surprised that the younger detective was unmoved. 

“It’s the best plan we have so far, Kev,” said Javier. The two partners stared at each other silently for a minute, leaving Castle desperately wishing he was a mind reader. 

“I don’t care,” said Kevin eventually. He sounded like he really did care but didn’t feel like fighting the inevitable anymore. He broke eye contact with his partner and settled for glaring at the abandoned bowl of cereal milk. 

“Good boy,” said Castle. He squeezed the toddler briefly. 

“When are you planning to leave?” asked Javier. 

“As soon as we’re ready. We have to move out of here and swing by the loft and your apartments before hitting the road, too.” Castle lifted Kevin up and set him on the ground. “I’m going to jump in the shower. You two need anything?” While Castle was greatly relieved that Kevin was no longer suffering from his dislocated shoulder and split tailbone, he wished witchcraft hadn’t been used to heal him. He wondered if one could overdose on magic. 

“We’re good,” said Javier. Castle nodded. He ruffled Kevin’s hair as he walked by, earning an angry retort. He figured one of these days he’d manage to have them both happy with him at the same time. 

An hour later Castle was doing his final walk-through, making sure they had all of their personal items and that the room wasn’t too messy. Javier and Kevin waited by the door, surrounded by their luggage and a few paper bags of leftover groceries. Satisfied that they weren’t going to leave anything important behind, Castle shouldered their shared duffel bag and grabbed the heaviest sack of groceries. He assigned the smaller plastic bag to Javier and Kevin was given the folded up spare blanket they’d received from the ambulance on Sunday. 

Outside the hotel a car service waited to drive them to Castle’s loft. Martha was there, still working to make the place look sleek and polished like it usually did. She was glad to hear that the group was finally coming to their senses and moving up to the Hamptons. She set aside her cleaning supplies to help put together a suitcase for Javier and Kevin while Castle packed his own bags. When the luggage had once again piled up next to the front door, Martha pulled Castle into the kitchen while the boys sorted through the writer’s movie and video game collection.

“Richard, have you thought about how you’re going to get them up to the Hamptons yet?”

“Obviously we’ll drive,” he said absently. He was patting down his pockets and wondering what he did with his sunglasses. He glanced at his mother and frowned at her expectantly raised eyebrow. “What? I told them we’d take the Ferrari if they’d stop fighting me about the trip.”

“Oh, Richard.”

“Just tell me, Mother. I want to get going before they change their minds about being agreeable.”

“You can’t take them in the Ferrari. Think about it. How many seats does that car have?”

“Two… oh, shit.”

“Not only that, but they’re supposed to be in the backseat, in a-”

“No! Don’t say it.” Castle covered his ears with his hands. His mother was absolutely right but he was terrified of the reaction he would get if he even hinted at getting car seats for each of them. 

“Stop being silly,” she scolded. “They’re cops. They know the laws. I’m sure they’ll understand that you’re just trying to keep them safe.”

“I know. Damn it. They already don’t want to go and this is going to be adding insult to injury.”

“They’ll live.” Martha picked up her plastic gloves and bottle of Windex. “I’ll watch them if you want to make a run to the nearest Babies ‘R Us.”

“Thanks,” he said sardonically. He informed the boys he was going to run a quick errand and they’d leave when he returned. Neither one seemed to pick up on his nervousness. 

He returned an hour and half later and three hundred dollars poorer. Castle hoped he could return the essential safety devices for full price when this mess was over. He let the last five minutes of the boys’ movie finish out as he collected a few bottles of water and juice boxes for the long ride. Once the credits started rolling, he sent them for a last chance bathroom stop while he shut down the system. 

He had stopped by the lobby on his way back from the great Car Seat Expedition so he had a useful luggage cart waiting to be loaded with their bags. This was another benefit to taking the Mercedes. It actually had a normal sized trunk. Martha kissed each of the boys good-bye and ordered them to not have too much fun without her. She patted Castle’s arm and told him to call her only under the direst circumstances. He assured her that they would be fine. He wished his words had managed to convince himself. 

In the garage below his building, Castle pushed the luggage cart up to his two beautiful cars. He pulled out his key fob and unlocked the silver Mercedes. “I told you we weren’t taking the Ferrari,” Kevin complained to his partner. 

“I know I promised to take the convertible but I forgot that it doesn’t have enough seats.” Castle popped the trunk and started loading the suitcases into it. “Kevin, you’re a cop, right?”

“Once upon a time,” muttered the unhappy toddler. He trailed his little fingers over the front fender of the red Italian sport car. 

“What does New York State Law say about little kids riding in cars?”

The blond rolled his eyes. “Kids under the age of sixteen have to ride in the back and those under age eight have to be in…” His face turned an alarming shade of red when he realized where Castle was leading with his question. 

“Fuck, no,” said Javier.

“Look, it’s not my fault, okay? I’m just trying to be the responsible one here. You both know the law and it’s your job to uphold it. Don’t fight me.” 

“We’re homicide detectives, not traffic cops.”

“That doesn’t change anything,” argued Castle. 

“Is that where you went just now?” demanded Kevin. “To buy _car seats_?” The way he snarled the word was actually a little bit scary. 

“I told you it’s not my fault. I didn’t write the law. Take it up with your congressman.”

“I changed my mind. I’m not going to the stupid Hamptons.”

“You can’t change your mind. We’re all packed and ready to go.” Castle pulled out his phone. He was going to need backup. It was just great that Kate had left him alone to deal with her little terrors, doubtless knowing all along that they were going to resist being dragged out of the city. That’s probably why she’d snuck out before anyone else woke up. He hit the speed dial for her phone and held it up to his ear with one hand while making a grab for the fleeing blond. The Irishman had a predilection for hiding in very small places and Castle wasn’t about to give him the chance to find another one. 

“Let go! I don’t want to go with you!”

“Shut up! You’re causing a scene.” Castle kept an iron grip on the boy’s wrist, though Kevin put up enough of a fight to make it an effort to maintain his balance. Javier watched the unfolding altercation with wide eyes and wisely kept his distance. 

“Hey Castle, what’s up?” Kate asked.

“Ow! You’re hurting me!” That almost got Castle to let go but he recognized the trickery before he fell for it. 

“What’s going on? Are you all right?”

“Kate, please explain the New York safety restraint laws to your partner. He seems to have forgotten them now that he’s a NYPD detective. Fuck! That hurt, you little leprechaun!” 

“It was supposed to, jackhole!”

“Castle, what in the world are you doing?”

“He kicked me in the shin!” Castle hopped on his uninjured leg all while maintaining his vise-like grip on the devil spawn. “This is all your fault, leaving me with them.”

“Beckett! Help, Beckett!”

“What did you do to them?”

“Nothing, yet. But I may drown one of them in the pool when we get to the house.”

“Let me talk to him.” Castle did not like that Beckett was barely restraining her chuckles at his misery. Nonetheless, he tucked the phone between his shoulder and chin and then reached down with his other hand to lift Kevin completely off the ground. The tantrum continued, now featuring flailing arms and legs that fortunately hit little more than air. 

“Stop fighting me or I swear you’ll regret it,” he threatened. “Beckett wants to talk to you.” Kevin at least stopped squirming, though his breathing was labored and his voice was starting to sound raw from the _endless screaming_. Castle was glad none of his neighbors decided to venture down to the garage. Castle set him on the level bit of trunk but kept a firm grip around his waist. The writer worked to bring his own breathing back to normal as Kevin told Beckett all about how mean and awful and terrible Castle was for trying to make them ride in car seats on the way to the Hamptons. 

The little boy fell silent as Beckett responded to his tirade. Castle wished he could hear what his girlfriend was saying. He glanced around the garage, his heart rate quickening again when he didn’t immediately see Javier. Fortunately, his panic was short lived as he spotted the six-year-old climbing on the luggage cart. He waved at the boy to gain his attention. Javier simply waved back and stayed right where he was. 

Kevin hiccupped a few times and sniffled miserably as he listened to whatever his senior partner was telling him. Hoping to soothe out some of the ruffled feathers, Castle loosened his grip slightly and rubbed the boy’s back comfortingly. Occasionally, Kevin mumbled yes or no to Beckett’s unheard questions. At long last, he handed the phone back to the writer and pouted silently over his upcoming humiliation.

“All better,” said Kate when Castle greeted her for the second time. 

“I don’t know about that.” The kid looked absolutely pathetic. “It was rich of you to abandon me to deal with this, you know.”

Kate laughed for a good minute. “Sorry, sorry. A part of me wishes I was there. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Ryan have such an epic meltdown. And over a car seat?” She broke into laughter again.

“Sure, laugh it up.” Her response to the situation was making him feel a little better though. 

“Do you need me to talk to Javi, too?”

“Ah, I don’t think so.” Castle glanced at the six-year-old again. “Just tell me what you told Kevin in case I get to go through round two.”

“Most of that was for his ears only but basically I just reasoned through it with him. I love him and want him to be safe. Like you said, he knows the law.”

“I don’t think it’s fair that they still like you more than me.”

Kate’s laugh sounded musical to his abused eardrums. “Oh, come on, Castle. Kevin adores you. He always buys into your wild murder theories and asks for your advice about everything. Do you think he’d act like that around someone he didn’t trust as much? If anyone should be jealous, it’s me about you stealing his affection away so easily.”

“Well, if this is anything like what you said to him, I can understand how you calmed him down so quickly.” Castle stood up a little straighter and flicked the front of his hair a couple times to make sure it still fell rakishly over his forehead. 

“You should get going if you want to make good time out of the city. With any luck, at least Kevin will sleep for most of the drive. Get Javi to talk to you about the fun gadgets he got to use in the military and the trip will fly by.”

“Thanks, Kate,” he said sincerely. 

“You’re welcome. Call me on the road and I’ll fill you in on what I found today.”

“Good news?”

“Just news.”

“All right, I’ll talk to you in a few.” Castle ended the call and slipped the phone into his pocket. “You ready to be a man about this and get in the car?” Kevin looked at him with such an expression of betrayal that Castle could only hold his gaze for a second. He swallowed thickly and picked the toddler up. He had put Kevin’s seat on the passenger’s side so he walked around to the right side of the car and pulled open the rear door. He took extra precaution to not bump the boy’s head on the door head as he settled him into the brand new forward facing seat. If Kevin had any thoughts about Javier’s much simpler booster already strapped in behind the driver’s seat, he kept them to himself as Castle adjusted the five-point restraint. 

One down, one to go. “Come on, Javier.” The older boy climbed off his makeshift jungle gym-on-wheels and docilely approached the car. “Thank you for not giving me such a hard time.”

“You looked like you had your hands full already.” Javier climbed into the car himself. He took a moment to observe his partner, who ignored them both and stared out the passenger side window. Castle pulled down the seat belt for him and Javier buckled it himself. Content that his charges were safely settled into the backseat, Castle took a couple minutes to finish loading the luggage into the trunk and push the cart out of the way. He finally slid into the driver’s seat and started the ignition. 

As he navigated the busy streets of New York City, Castle said, “Javi, Beckett mentioned that you got to use a lot of cool stuff in the Special Forces and that I should ask you about them.”

“Oh, sure,” said the veteran. He launched into a story about one of his favorite pieces of weaponry. Their animated discussion about arms lasted until they were well out of the city. Castle promised to ask Javier about all of it again when he could write it down. In his head he worked out how to incorporate the military in his next Nikki Heat novel. The boys had been pushing him to write in more scenes for Roach and he thought he could figure out a way to bring the two together. 

They eventually transitioned into baseball and they debated the various merits and demerits of the Yankees and the Mets. Just like Kate had predicted, Kevin fell asleep early on. 

_to be continued…_


	15. Tuesday Morning Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Beckett goes to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Fifteen

Detective Kate Beckett sat on the edge of her desk, staring at the murder board. She fought to keep her smile hidden as she thought about the Car Seat Fiasco. Demming had asked her what was so funny when she ended the call. She’d explained to him briefly how tiny little Ryan had nearly brought Castle to his knees over their mode of transportation to the Hamptons. Demming hadn’t found the story quite as amusing as Beckett though he appreciated the mental image of his ex-rival’s defeat by a four-year-old. 

Since she’d been at work that morning, Beckett had accomplished a lot. She wasn’t much closer to finding Serafina Valduerez’s murderer, but she had a slew of new leads thanks to Demming’s hard work and Castle’s small success at the jewelry convention. 

The other detectives helping her while her team was out of commission had managed to track down the original owner of the diamond studs Valduerez had been wearing. They had also positively ID’d the red-headed man who’d hired the thugs to try to kidnap her detectives. Demming had graciously kept their secret and informed the other detectives that the two little boys were Castle’s second cousins, who were staying with the writer while their parents were on holiday overseas. The red-headed man, a shady marketing executive with a reputedly bad temper, had a meeting with one Detective Beckett in about an hour down at his office. Usually she insisted on interviewing her primary suspects at the precinct, where she had the upper hand, but due to the personal nature of this man’s crime, she wanted the privacy his office would provide. 

“Marching orders, Beckett?” The lead detective looked over at her colleague. Besides Demming, who was on loan from Robbery, three of the other four homicide detectives were also helping her nearly full time. Detectives Johnson and Kleburg were seasoned veterans of the force, though they’d only been at the 12th for a little longer than Ryan. They’d come over together from the 9th, full of experience and dark cop humor. However, for all the cases they’d solved, she still thought Ryan and Esposito could run circles around them in a pinch. The third homicide detective was a reserved young woman who’d just recently passed her detective exams. Detective Holt was intelligent enough but Kate worried that her disposition would hinder her when dealing with the rougher suspects. 

A sudden thought struck her. Laura Holt had blondish brown hair and pretty gray eyes. Was she the one whom Javier now liked? If she asked Lanie point blank, her best friend had to tell her the truth. She’d call the ME later that night.

It was Detective Johnson who had addressed her. “Detectives Johnson and Kleburg, follow up with the Carsons about their stolen earrings. See if anything else of theirs is missing or if they know of any of their peers who were robbed. After that, head up to Radiant Pines and see if the staff there will talk to you without a warrant.”

“What about the missing rifle?”

“Keep your eyes peeled while you’re about. Demming and I are going to interview Greg Hanson to figure out his connection to this case. He might know something about it as well. Detective Holt, how’s the warrant coming for the Clairemont Hotel?”

“Just arrived,” said the younger woman. She held out the document so Beckett could see the freshly inked signature of Judge Makay herself. “Good. Johnson, while you’re out, swing by the hotel as well to see if the manager is a little more amiable now. Holt, I need you to get me everything you can on a woman named Bianca Castova. She’d be in her early fifties, Caucasian, upper-middle class. She might know something about this case as well.”

“Consider it done,” said the rookie. 

“Let’s go, team,” said Demming. The other three detectives scattered to complete their tasks, leaving Demming and Beckett by her desk. “You ready to roll?”

“Yeah, I just need a minute. I’ll meet you downstairs.” He nodded and walked towards the elevator. Beckett took a deep breath to prepare for the upcoming interview. She had a feeling that the man behind the attempted kidnapping would break their case open or cause it to crumble. She strongly hoped for the former. Beckett grabbed her keys off the desk and finally went to join Demming in the garage. With a bit of luck, Greg Hanson would be more forthcoming with what he knew than her other suspects. 

On the way uptown, Beckett distracted herself from the frustrating traffic by calling Castle and putting him on speakerphone so she and Demming could update him on the case. It didn’t take very long for her to fill him in. He took a minute to process the new information and then proceeded to tell her that she was a genius for suggesting he talk to Javier about military weaponry. He chattered on about how he could best incorporate a stealth fighter jet into his next Heat novel. Demming actually chimed in with an idea that Castle couldn’t automatically discard. Beckett had to break into their boy-talk to ask how Kevin was doing. 

“Just like you predicted, he’s been out cold since we crossed I-295.” 

She hung up with him when she reached the parking structure attached to Hanson’s building. She flashed her badge at the parking attendant who let her drive in without having to get a ticket. She and Demming talked strategy as they rode the elevator up to Hanson’s floor. 

The antechamber to the executive’s office was lavishly decorated, almost to the point of being gaudy. The various species of wood making up the wall coverings and the furniture had been selected based on their expensiveness and not their ability to complement each other. Behind the large and cheaply molded desk sat a petite woman with dyed black hair and a hunched posture. The secretary looked almost fearful of the two detectives as they strode determinedly towards her. 

“Detective Beckett, NYPD. I’m here to speak with Mr. Hanson.” Beckett flashed her badge. 

The woman dutifully reached for her intercom, though the movement was slow and a little awkward. It seemed to Beckett that the secretary suffered from severe arthritis, despite her youth. Though, when Beckett studied her a bit closer while they waited for Hanson to admit them to his office, the detective noticed the numerous fine wrinkle lines about her eyes and mouth. Where her dye-job was growing out, the roots were grayish. 

Her inspection was cut short when the door to Hanson’s office burst open at the man stepped into the doorway. He shook hands with the two detectives energetically before inviting them into the room beyond. 

Gregory Hanson was just as Casey Boyd, better known as Electronuts, had described him. He was a couple inches shorter than Beckett but he made up for his diminutive stature by being loud and openly aggressive when he spoke to the two officers. His graying red hair seemed to be more a result of his fiery personality rather than genetic makeup. 

“Candice, get us some tumblers of my finest,” the man ordered. His waif of a secretary slipped out the door without a word. “Have a seat, detectives.” He waved towards two padded chairs across from his oversized mahogany desk. 

The secretary returned with a tray on which sat a decanter of golden liquid and three shot glasses, already filled. Hanson threw his back and barely reacted to the burn. He offered the other two to his guests. 

“No, thank you. We’re on duty,” said Beckett. Besides that, she would never drink anything offered to her by a suspect again, especially not one related to their current case. 

“Suit yourself.” Hanson drank the extras himself. Beckett covertly looked for signs of liver damage. She guessed he hadn’t been drinking like that for long enough or the effects would be more readily visible. “What brings you to my neck of the woods? You’re investigating a murder?”

“Yes,” said Beckett. “We’re also investigating an attempted kidnapping that took place on Sunday. What can you tell me about that?”

“I don’t know anything about a kidnapping. What would I do with some little brat running around underfoot?”

“That’s what I want to know,” said Beckett. She hoped that the man’s ego would keep him talking. He seemed the sort to think himself above the law so even if he did incriminate himself while expounding upon his genius plot, he’d still think he could get away with it. “You don’t remember offering some down-on-their-luck thugs a couple grand to kidnap two little boys?” 

Hanson steepled his fingers together under his chin and pretended to think. “Nope, I can’t say that I do.”

“That’s interesting,” said Demming. “They clearly remember you.” He leaned back in his chair. 

“Well, if that’s the case, I don’t know why you’re beating around the bush with pretense.” The man smirked at them as if feeling cocky that he had figured out their game. 

“Why did you try to kidnap them?” asked Beckett. 

“I didn’t.” Hanson smiled derisively. 

“Why did you pay two men to try to kidnap them?” Beckett hated having to mince words with suspects but she was willing to play by his rules for the time being if he was talking to them without a lawyer. 

“What proof do you have besides the word of two known criminals?” Before they even arrived at the uptown office, Beckett had felt sure Hanson was the one behind Sunday’s adventure. She had purposely not mentioned the number of men involved. That the executive knew there were two was just another check in the guilty column for her. 

“That’s enough for now,” said Beckett. “My people are going through your financials and your phone records right now. I doubt they’ll have any trouble finding your down payment for a donation to the common good and record of your dealings with the kidnappers. So, why don’t you cooperate with me and make this easier on yourself?”

“I don’t know how I could possibly help you, detective.”

“Help me understand why you might have wanted the children staying with the author, Richard Castle.”

“They’d be, ah… valuable to me.” Hanson poured himself another drink and tossed it back as rapidly as he had the others. His smug expression never wavered. 

“How so? You have no connection to them outside of Sunday’s failed attack.”

“That’s what you think.”

“That’s what I _know_ ,” said Beckett. She leaned forward to stare him down. She did intimidating pretty well and Hanson folded a little under the weight of her glare. 

“Aren’t you a homicide detective? Why are you investigating a kidnapping, anyway?”

“The kidnapping overlaps with another case we’re working,” said Demming. “It’s a serious crime that any cop would follow up on, no matter which department they work for.” He leaned forward as well, matching Beckett’s pose. 

“Wait a minute. Are you investigating the Valduerez murder? You’re that Nikki Heat detective.”

“Yes, I’m working on the Valduerez case. What can you tell me about that?” If he wouldn’t talk about the kidnapping, maybe he’d talk about the murder. 

“A waste. That girl had talent.” A brief moment of doubt flashed over his face when he realized that he probably shouldn’t have implied he knew a murder victim. Well, it was too late to take it back and all three people knew it. 

“So you knew the victim?” asked Demming. 

“Sure, she worked for me. Just like the boys would have if those two imbeciles hadn’t messed everything up.” Hanson scowled at the memory of the two men he’d hired. He slammed back another shot of whiskey. Beckett could smell the sour tang on his breath from the drink. Normally she’d insist that he put the decanter away but it was loosening his tongue marvelously. 

“Worked for you?” Beckett felt her blood pressure rising as she pursued that line of questioning. Did this man kidnap children and hold them captive for forced labor?

“That’s what I said.”

“She was eight years old. It’s illegal to employ children that young,” said Demming. 

Throughout their recent line of conversation, Hanson had acted like he was trying to figure something out. He kept looking at Beckett as if he somehow knew her but had forgotten. At that moment, whatever it was he was searching for suddenly clicked. “The two officer kids were with you. You’re the bitch that foiled the grab.”

“Excuse me?” Beckett nearly jumped up from her seat to smack the man but Demming grabbed her arm. 

“Do you have any idea how much those two are worth?” Hanson leaned forward himself now, his eyes backlit with scorn. 

“A thousand dollars apiece, apparently.” Demming smoothly took over the interrogation since Beckett was too livid to form coherent sentences. 

Hanson scoffed. “Those ignorant dogs would have done the job for ten dollars apiece. No, these two are worth millions. Can you imagine what you could accomplish with a fully trained NYPD police officer disguised as an innocent grade schooler? They could pull off the biggest heists and no one would ever suspect them.”

“Except that you’d never get an officer to agree to that,” argued Demming. 

Hanson waved his hand dismissively. “If magic could turn thirty year old adults into babies, don’t you think a few mind control spells would be child’s play?” He laughed at his own pun. “Get it? _Child’s_ play.” Neither detective laughed. “Hell, regular drugs could be used to control them.”

“You make me sick,” seethed Beckett. 

“So you knew that Valduerez wasn’t actually a child?” asked Demming. He placed a calming hand on Beckett’s lower arm. Unfortunately, it did next to nothing to soothe her. 

“Yeah, she owed me for not turning her and that hag Bellefonte into the witch council. That kind of magic is illegal, in case you didn’t know. It was a win-win. I got my ‘employee’ and they stayed out of trouble.”

“You admit to abetting a criminal who maliciously turned two adults into little kids against their will?” Beckett forced herself to sound cool and collected. It was taking all of her will to keep her poker face in place.

“Don’t be jealous you didn’t think of it first. There are all kinds of other benefits with legal minors, too. All of things you’re not allowed to do with kids - well, now they’re consenting adults. The ‘adult entertainment’ industry alone would pay for my very comfortable retirement.”

Demming couldn’t stop Beckett from overturning her chair as she stood and marched on the desk. She slammed her palms down on the sleek surface with enough force to upset the knick-knacks lining the edges. Hanson jumped slightly as well and leaned as far back in his chair as it would recline. “Greg Hanson, I’m putting you under arrest for human trafficking.”

“Don’t bother. It won’t stick.” The words were a lot braver than they sounded coming out of the cowed man’s mouth. He frantically tried to regain the upper hand he’d never had.

“Enlighten me,” said Beckett in a dark voice. 

“I don’t have any ‘kids’ right now,” he stammered. “That stupid Valduerez girl had to go and get herself killed and you made sure I couldn’t get the cops yet.”

“Fine,” said Beckett. She had enough to arrest him, whether he was currently engaging in his illegal activities or not, but she wanted him to nail his own coffin. “How much will you give me for the two cop kids?”

“What?”

“Make me an offer.” Beckett backed away from the desk and folded her arms over her chest. 

“I’m not stupid,” he claimed. “You wouldn’t actually give them to me.” He looked supremely offended at her slight to his intelligence. 

“I might if you give me enough incentive,” said Beckett. She had to swallow thickly around the lie and her disgust at what she was about to do. “They’re pretty much useless to me as kids and I don’t have any way of turning them back so I might as well benefit financially from this mess.”

Fortunately, Hanson was ready to prove he was stupid enough to haggle with her. 

“Well… I was going to pay two thousand to those crooks.”

“Come on, Hanson. You told me they were worth millions and you’re offering two grand? What about _my_ comfortable retirement?”

“A hundred thousand.”

“Maybe I’ll just go into business myself,” taunted Beckett. She felt sick, bartering like this for her partners, even if she knew that her side of the negotiation was just a ruse. She vowed that they would never find out about this.

“You’re killing me, lady. Five hundred each and that’s the best I can do. That’s a cool million. My wife is going to kill me.”

“Write the check.” Beckett picked a pen out of the jar near his keyboard and practically threw it at him. Hanson went for his checkbook, his eyes never leaving Beckett’s face. He had to look down to fill out the slip of paper, which he did so as quickly as possible. Beckett snatched it out of his hand when he was done. She inspected it briefly, making sure that the amount was correct and that it was dated and signed. “Did you get all that, Detective Demming?” 

“Yes.” From the way he said it, she was reassured that he’d been onto her play since she first started the negotiation. 

“Good. Greg Hanson, you’re under arrest for human trafficking.” She waved the check in his face. “You have the right to remain silent…”

Hanson decided to waive that right as he viciously attacked her verbally, yelling over her as she continued to recite his Miranda Rights. Demming shoved him down on the desk and cuffed him. Together they marched him out of the office and past his trembling secretary. Beckett glanced at her, wondering if she was also in on the crime. It didn’t surprise her, however, that the girl looked relieved to see her boss going. 

They dropped him off at booking after a tense ride back to the station during which Hanson refused to stop yelling at them. Beckett’s head pounded by the time she was free of his oily presence and she wanted nothing more than to curl up in Castle’s arms and cry. She seemed to be doing that a lot recently. She hated this case with a passion. 

“Are you okay?” asked Demming. He placed his hand gently on her shoulder. 

“No.” She wiped away the solitary tear that had escaped her right eye. “We need to track down Bellefonte and see how deeply involved in this crime ring he and his mother are.”

“If you need to…”

“I’m fine,” she snapped. “I’m sorry. I just… want to be done with this case. Every day it gets worse and I’m terrified of what tomorrow will bring if I can’t solve this thing tonight.”

“It’s not going to end tonight,” said Demming pragmatically. “But you sent Ryan and Esposito out of reach of these slime bags. We’ll talk to Hanson some more after a night in jail has calmed him down a bit and in the meantime, we still have the lead with the stolen jewelry and the witch who visited you yesterday.”

“You’re right.” Beckett took a deep breath and ran her hand through her hair. “I’m going to check on Holt’s progress with Bianca’s background check.”

She made her way directly to the younger woman’s desk. “How’s your search going?” 

“Not as well as I’d hoped.” Holt spun her computer monitor so Beckett could see what she was looking at. “I’ve only found one Bianca Castova in New York and I don’t think she’s your mystery visitor from yesterday. According this record, Bianca Castova was born in Estonia in 1872 in a village near the border with Russia. She immigrated to the United States via Ellis Island in 1916, just before her country gained independence. There’s no death certificate on file, but she’d be one hundred and forty-one by now. I did find this old photograph of her circa 1925.” Holt showed her the sepia toned photograph. Beckett’s jaw nearly dropped. Staring at her from the computer screen was the woman from the park.

“Print all of this out for me. It might not be our woman but the resemblance is striking. It’s possible they’re related.”

“No problem. I’ll keep looking for the present day Bianca Castova as well.” Beckett didn’t tell her that she’d already found Central Park’s mystery witch. She’d let Holt search for a little longer and then set her on a different track. The fewer people who knew about the witchcraft involved in this case, the better. 

Beckett returned to her own desk and sat down to look up the number to the hospital where Nora Bellefonte was still a patient. One of the nurses answered after a few rings. “Yes, I’m Detective Kate Beckett. I’m looking for information on Nora Bellefonte. She was admitted from incarceration after suffering a stroke.”

“One minute, please.” Beckett could hear the nurse typing away at her computer over the line. “Detective Beckett?”

“Yes, I’m still here.” 

“Nora Bellefonte passed away this morning at nine-oh-three. We’ve been waiting to notify next of kin before calling you. You wouldn’t happen to know how to contact any of her family, would you?”

“Um, sure.” Beckett felt like the world had just dropped out from under her chair. “Can you tell me how she died? Was it complications from the stroke?”

“No, it looks like she suffered cardiac arrest. They tried to resuscitate her but were unsuccessful.”

“Okay, thank you. Don’t turn the body over to the family until my ME has had a chance to perform an autopsy.”

“Detective, we have our own in-house morgue.”

“I know, but Ms. Bellefonte was part of my murder investigation and I’d like my people to have a chance to look at her as well.”

“I’ll let the director know,” said the nurse.

“Thank you.” Beckett gave her the number to Randy Bellefonte’s cell phone. It seemed that his older brother was keeping a low profile, even avoiding visiting his mother. She wanted to call him herself and ask what progress he’d made deciphering his mother’s spell but knew she had to give him time to deal with the woman’s passing.

Instead, she called Lanie to give her the news and ask her to go down to the hospital. “Oh, Kate, I’m so sorry. Of course I’ll go down there.”

“Do a no-holds tox screen,” said Beckett. “It’s too convenient that she had a heart attack.”

“Kate, the woman was old and she’d suffered a stroke. A heart attack isn’t really that big of a leap.”

“Still, something doesn’t feel right to me.”

“Okay, I’ll check it out. I’ll call you if I find anything.”

“Call me even if you don’t. Oh, before you go, I have another question for you.” Switching to the least infuriating “mystery” on her plate helped to buffer the wretchedness of her other cases. 

“Shoot.”

“Is Espo’s new crush named Laura Holt?”

“Who?”

“Laura Holt. She’s the rookie on the other homicide team. She’s pretty enough and has blonde hair.”

“What is wrong with you three? If it’s not the boys bothering me about who you’re dating, it’s you prying into their personal lives.” Lanie laughed. “Obviously I am in the wrong profession. Dead men tell no tales and I am missing out on all the gossip.”

“We’re not _that_ bad,” protested Beckett. “Besides, I’m your girl friend. You have to tell me.”

“I don’t know how you came to that conclusion but I’ll throw you a bone. It’s not Laura Holt.”

“Lanie, there aren’t many blondes up here that I can imagine Esposito drooling over. Can you give me a hint?”

“It’s not my secret to tell. Besides, you’ve never made me feel that good in bed so for now I’m taking his side.”

“Okay, TMI. I need some brain bleach now.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be solving a murder, girl?”

“I am. Remind me to tell you about the Castle versus Ryan showdown that had Rick calling me because he couldn’t control a toddler.”

“What? When did this happen? You have to tell me about Castle losing to a four-year-old.”

“Nuh-uh. Consider it payback for not dishing on Javi.”

“Fine, fine. Well played, my dear. I’ll talk to you later. Be safe.”

They hung up. Beckett’s leg bounced up and down beneath her desk. This was usually the point in the case where she’d find new focus by brainstorming with her detectives and Castle. This time, she had to figure it out on her own. 

A speck of white caught her eye and she brushed aside a few files to reveal Bianca’s business card. She ran her finger over the embossed letters. Throwing caution to the wind, she picked up her desk phone and dialed the number. It went to voicemail after five rings. The woman’s rich tenor voice invited her caller to leave a message so Beckett did. She left just her name and the precinct’s number, figuring that the witch would know why she was calling. 

Now officially without a solid lead to follow herself, Beckett rested her elbows on her desk and her face in her palms. “Are you all right, Detective Beckett?” Holt stood next to her desk, a folder with 1870s Bianca’s file in her outstretched hand. 

“Yes, sorry. Thanks.” Holt nodded slowly and hesitated for a moment before deciding the senior detective’s privacy should be respected and walking back to her desk. Beckett opened the file and started to read in-depth what Holt had summarized for her. Her cell phone buzzed. Expecting it to be Castle or Demming, she only glanced at the message. She did a double take. 

_Meet me at the Rosewood Café on 60th in twenty._

The number matched the one embossed on the white business card. Beckett wasn’t surprised that somehow the witch had her personal number.

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I’d like to send out a happy birthday wish to Seamus Dever.
> 
> Next, a reader mystery: Anyone know from what show I borrowed the character Laura Holt?
> 
> Finally, thank you again to all of my loyal readers and those who have written me reviews. I love checking my email after a new chapter goes up to see what everyone thinks.


	16. Tuesday Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the guys finally make it to the Hamptons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Sixteen

Castle breathed a sigh of relief when he finally put the Mercedes into park in the circular drive before his second home. He glanced in the rearview mirror to check on his passengers, just like he’d done a hundred times on the drive up there. Kevin was still sleeping off his emotional outburst. Javier had been about to drift off as the soothing hum of the car caused his eyes to droop but he bounced back quickly when the car turned off. He leaned over as far as he could to try to see the wood-shingled house.

Castle freed Javier from his booster first and let the boy stretch his legs by running around the car and down the drive a bit to get a better look at the property. It hadn’t been all that long ago that he brought Kate up here for the first time. He preened a bit at the fact that Javier looked equally impressed. 

The writer next opened the rear passenger side door. Kevin blinked tiredly as Castle undid the harness of his car seat. “We’re here.” Castle lifted him out of the seat and set him on the ground next to the automobile. Instead of chasing after his partner, the younger detective sleepily took in the sprawling house while Castle popped the trunk to retrieve some of the luggage. “Javi, let’s go inside,” he called. The Hispanic detective ran back to the car and nearly skidded on the loose gravel. If he had that much energy to burn just from being cooped up in the car for two hours, a visit to his pool was definitely in order once they settled in.

Castle inserted the key in the lock of the front door and pushed it open. He motioned for the two detectives to proceed him into the sprawling house. 

“Bro, why do you even keep a place in the city?” asked Javier as he spun around slowly in the entry way, looking down each of the paneled hallways. 

“To be close to my second job,” replied Castle. 

“What’s your first job?”

“Very funny. Help me haul in the rest of the stuff and I’ll give you the tour.”

“Can we go swimming?”

“Later.” Javier frowned in disappointment. Nevertheless, he followed Castle back outside. Kevin tagged along at a distance, content to just watch instead of doing any heavy lifting. Castle gave Javier the smaller rolling suitcase and picked up the large hard shell one to carry himself. He handed the small cooler of snacks to the toddler. After slamming the trunk closed, he made sure it was locked and slid the keys into his pocket. He’d move it around to the garage later on. 

Castle decided to start the tour on the upper floor. He pointed out the various guest rooms and baths, offering to let the boys pick whichever ones they wanted to use. They passed by Alexis’ and Martha’s rooms, as well as the various office-type spaces and the home theatre. In the opposite wing of the house was the master suite. 

On the first floor, they saw the extensive living spaces, the state of the art kitchen, and the game room. The entire house had been professionally decorated and maintained. Their final stop was at the sparkling blue pool.

“No dead bodies this time, Castle?” Javier grinned cheekily at the writer. 

“No, and let’s keep it that way.” 

“Can we go swimming now?”

“If you can find your swim trunks. Unpack first, then we’ll swim.”

Once again on the second floor, this time toting the various suitcases, Javier picked the room he wanted to stay in. Kevin didn’t seem to care, so Castle suggested the one next to Javier’s. He left them with the suitcase that contained their combined personal effects and instructed them to put the clothes in the dressers and the toiletries in the bathrooms while he took his belonging to the master bedroom. 

When he returned twenty minutes later, the suitcase was empty and stowed in Javier’s closet. Both of them had changed into their little swim trunks, most likely at Javier’s insistence. Two folded beach towels waited patiently at the foot of the double bed. The boys were tucked up together in the seat of Javier’s bay window, watching the white caps crash into the beach. Castle snuck a picture on his phone and sent it to Beckett for safe keeping. Javier noticed him hovering in the doorway.

“Everything sorted?”

“Yup. You two ready for some sun?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

“Where’d you put the sunscreen?”

“Kevin’s room.”

“Go get it.” Javier huffed at being treated like a retriever but he went to get the plastic bottle so they could get poolside sooner than later. Castle sat on the padded window seat next to Kevin, who had remained curled up in the corner. “You doing all right, kiddo?”

Kevin peeked at him out of the corner of his eye. The blond nodded slowly as he went back to looking out at the water. 

“Look, you survived the awful ride up here, no worse for wear. Can we be friends again?”

“I’m sorry for how I acted in the parking garage,” said Kevin in a low voice. “It was immature and uncalled for.”

“I forgive you. Come here.” Castle pulled the toddler-sized detective into a bear hug. “I don’t blame you for being opposed to the seat. I probably would have thrown a tantrum, too.” 

“It wasn’t a tantrum.” Kevin’s cheeks turned pink and he pushed against Castle’s chest so he could look the older man in the face. 

“I don’t know what you call kicking, hitting, and screaming if not a tantrum.” Castle grinned at the Irishman’s embarrassed expression. “You’ve got some lungs in you, squirt.”

“Not a tantrum.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” Castle stood up and settled the toddler on his hip. “We better start moving towards the pool or we might get to experience a Javi-tantrum as well.”

“Whatever.” The detective gave up trying to get the writer to agree that his little show of displeasure was not a childish display of anger and opted for acting as if the writer was beneath his notice. 

Castle dared to detour through the kitchen to grab some bottled water and then they were finally crossing the textured concrete to the lounge chairs by the pool. The boys kicked off their Velcro sandals and tossed their t-shirts onto one of the poolside chairs. Javier made his way to the edge of the clear water and Castle didn’t miss how he took his time making sure it was body-free before plopping down on the edge and sticking his feet in to check the temperature. The pool was heated and Castle had powered up the thermostat during the tour so it should have been a comfortable 75 degrees already. 

The writer sat down at the end of one of the lounge chairs to help Kevin apply the waterproof sunscreen. As he rubbed the cool lotion over the soft skin of the kid’s upper back, Kevin craned his neck around to look at him appraisingly. “You know, Beckett doesn’t make me wear this much sunscreen.”

Castle pinched him gently in the side. “That’s because Beckett didn’t raise the palest complexioned girl in Greater Manhattan and doesn’t know how easily the fair get toasted.” 

“I tan, you know.”

“Well, when you have a base tan the color of Javi’s, come back and talk to me.” Kevin gave him an annoyed look because _that_ would never happen. Castle decided that the blond was as protected as he was going to get and prodded the toddler towards the pool. “Go play.”

“We don’t ‘play,’ Castle.”

“You play video games, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“So go ‘play’ in the pool and leave me alone.” Kevin rolled his blue eyes. He made for his partner who had fully entered the pool and was using up energy by making laps in the shorter direction. Kevin waited until Javier was just the right distance from the edge of the pool and then jumped practically on top of him, sending a tidal wave of water crashing across the once calm surface. Castle watched them with baited breath until they both resurfaced. To his relief, the knowledge of how to swim hadn’t been lost in the transformation, even if some of the finesse had. He settled back to apply his own layer of sun block while the homicide detectives tried to drown each other. 

As was their wont, their ‘play’ soon turned into a competition and they devised a whole series of challenges to see who was more macho or a better swimmer. Castle was content to recline and let the sun try to beat through his protective shield. With his ears tuned to the shouts and splashes in the pool he let his mind wander back over the last few days. Whenever he and Beckett were stuck on a case in the past, they always circled back to motive. Why did the killer murder that particular victim? In this instance, why did the witch turn two strangers into little kids? It appeared that she hadn’t intended to keep them herself since she’d let them leave unhindered. 

It seemed that the woman was fond of her daughter-in-law and would have wanted to keep the girl close to her when in her child form. According to Beckett, Randy Bellefonte thought his mother had created the new, indefinitely long spell as a way to prevent Valduerez from having to go through the painful transformation every few weeks. Had she decided to test the spell on the first person who happened to walk through her door to make sure it didn’t cause unforeseen side effects?

But why a cop? It could be that Ryan and Esposito had been her first visitors in a long while but Castle didn’t have the feeling that she was crazy enough to drag the NYPD into whatever game she was playing. She’d have to be desperate to risk injuring or killing a police officer.

Castle decided to follow that tangent. Why was Nora Bellefonte so desperate? It must have been part of why Valduerez was living on the south side of New York City, attending a rich prep school, when her benefactor lived on the far north side. They knew now that the miniaturized woman had been hanging around the Clairemont Central Park hotel and a good number of the jewelry enthusiasts at the convention had mentioned some of their property going missing. Was Valduerez stealing for her own sake or for someone else? Who was she staying with while attending Radiant Pines?

Then there was the murder. Had Nora Bellefonte known that someone was unhappy with her daughter-in-law? Had the woman been forced into a life of petty crime by someone who knew the truth about her age? If Valduerez was trying to live her second life on the up and up, stealing jewelry seem counterproductive. Maybe Nora Bellefonte was trying to rescue her daughter-in-law from whoever benefited from Valduerez’s grabs. 

The woman hadn’t tried to ransom an antidote for the spell. She didn’t even know who Ryan and Esposito were, save for their NYPD badges. He figured he’d have heard if anyone called Captain Gates demanding money for the return of her detectives. That meant Bellefonte’s goal had to have been a trade. If she could exchange a different adult-child for her daughter-in-law, maybe the girl could go free. Bellefonte could sweeten the deal by giving the person or persons two in exchange for one. Of course, Bellefonte had no idea if the spell would work or if the detectives would survive the transformation. That’s why she let them leave.

Unfortunately, she hadn’t acted quickly enough and Valduerez had been killed. Not that it mattered - someone had clearly discovered that she had created two new cursed beings and gone after the boys. Whether Bellefonte or one of her sons tipped off the interested party could be determined later. 

Castle filed away the theory in his memory so he could run it by Beckett when he next spoke with her. The idea that Bellefonte had so callously toyed with the lives of two people that the writer was rather fond of gave him the willies. He pushed the case out of his head and concentrated on his charges. It appeared they were getting tired as they had migrated into the shallow end and were engaged in a private conversation instead of a Battle of Supremacy. He tried to imagine what the two of them would talk about as very small children and then felt silly. They were still adults on the inside and if they were talking about anything seriously, it was either girls or sports. Maybe Kevin was prying Javier for information on his secret crush. Castle made a mental note to ask the blond later what he learned. 

He abandoned his lounge chair in favor of sitting at the edge of the pool, his feet resting on the second step into the shallow end. The cool water lapped at his legs about midway up his shins. The two miniaturized detectives drifted over to him. “You two ready to dry out?”

“Already?” asked Javier. He pushed off the bottom of the pool, gliding backwards a few feet. Kevin idly splashed at his partner but only a few drops actually reached the taller boy. 

“It’s been nearly an hour and you’re not even swimming anymore.” Castle dipped his hand in the water and flicked the droplets at Kevin. The water at the shallow end of the pool still came up nearly to the toddler’s chin. The author wondered if he shouldn’t have gotten the boy some kind of flotation device. It was a moot point anyway - the detective apparently could swim and had survived Javier trying to drag him under water multiple times. 

“We’re still swimming. Just taking a break.”

“Sure. I saw you over here, gossiping like a bunch of girls.”

“You’re jealous not to be included in the gossip,” said Javier. Mentally, Castle pouted. The boys were growing immune to his jabs and no longer reacted amusingly. He’d have to come up with some new quips. At least he could still get a rise out of the younger detective with the leprechaun jokes. 

“I am, so spill. Who’s dating whom and what are we wearing to the school dance?” He batted his eyelashes at Kevin, who giggled in response. 

“Beckett has a skimpy red dress that her old boyfriend bought her. She might let you borrow that.” Javier smirked at the writer. 

“Oh, Kate and I are well beyond skimpy dresses. In fact, if I recall correctly, the last time we swam in this pool, we weren’t wearing anything at all…”

That got the boys out of the pool. Seconds later they were both standing on the rough tile in the middle of quickly expanding wet circles. Javier made a disgusted face as if the water had turned into a cesspool. Kevin covered his ears with his hands, afraid Castle might go into further detail about his exploits with their partner. Castle laughed uproariously, much to their chagrin. 

“That’s just wrong,” complained Javier. He smacked Castle on the shoulder. Eventually Castle managed to catch his breath.

“The dead body in the pool doesn’t bother you, but me and Kate does?”

“Ah, yeah.”

“You too?” Castle grinned at Kevin. 

“She’s like our sister, man.”

“I need some brain bleach now,” said Javier. 

“What would Beckett think if she knew you were talking about this?” asked Kevin. 

“I guess it’ll remain a mystery, because you are never, ever going to tell her,” said Castle. He grabbed the toddler by the waist and plopped him back in the ‘contaminated’ water. Kevin retaliated by pushing as much water as he could at the author, thoroughly soaking him from the waist down. “Oh, you’re going down, now.” Castle slid into the water and grabbed at Kevin but the slippery toddler dodged his grasp and started swimming for the other end of the pool. Javier joined their game, pushing the scarring mental images to the back of his mind in favor of splashing the older man as much as possible. Of course, the two partners ganged up on him and it didn’t take long for Castle to concede defeat and dive under water. His nicely styled hair was already ruined.

The two on one war continued until Castle finally managed to catch the tiring Javier and hold him hostage until Kevin surrendered. He was feeling a little fatigued himself. With a captive under each arm, Castle climbed out of the pool and deposited them on a lounge chair. The warm afternoon sun felt good on his chilled skin. He dropped a beach towel on each of the boys’ heads before drying off with his own. They wanted to lie in the sun for a while but Castle didn’t fully trust the ‘waterproof’ sun block. A fine dusting of freckles had popped up across the bridge of Kevin’s nose and over his cheeks. Even Javier’s skin was reacting to the extended UV exposure, though it was camouflaged better by his dark complexion. 

“Can we at least go down to the beach?” Javier pointed towards the crashing ocean.

“If you wear shirts and shoes.” The boys didn’t seem to mind the conditions for the trek down to the saltwater. They each pulled on the sandals and t-shirts they’d worn down to the poolside. Castle did the same. They started the walk down to the beach together. A few yards in, Javier challenged Kevin to a race and the two took off sprinting down the sandy path. Javier used his longer legs to their full advantage and reached the designated finish line a full couple seconds before his partner. Kevin shrugged off the loss with ease and Castle mused that he’d probably be more upset if Javier let him win. 

The ocean water was bitingly cold at only about 50 degrees. They stayed out of the water for the most part, though a few of the larger waves broke over their feet. The edge of the water was littered with shells, small stones, and the occasional dead fish. Javier found a lobster hiding behind a rock. The boys poked at it for a short time but it seemed kind of sickly and wasn’t very entertaining. 

Castle figured that they probably walked nearly three quarters of a mile up and down the beach, enjoying the salty breeze and the warm rays from the gradually setting sun. It was clear to him that the detectives were city boys who didn’t take the time to get out into the open country much. He resolved to invite his friends out to the coast more often, even after this case was finished and everyone was returned to normal. 

By the time they trooped up to the mansion’s backdoor, they were all covered in sunscreen, chlorine, salt, and sand. Castle declared it bath time. They rinsed off their feet as well as they could using the outdoor hose. Castle cleaned himself up first while the boys each snacked on an apple in the kitchen. Afterwards, upstairs, Castle helped Kevin while Javier used his own bathroom. It seemed wasteful to get dressed again when bedtime was only a few hours away so the boys ended up in their pajamas. Kevin was not very fond of the green four leaf clovers dotting his shirt, though it amused Castle to no end. 

The author ordered a pizza, too tired to go out or cook anything. While they waited for it to arrive, Castle flopped down on his comfortable couch and yawned widely. Kevin climbed up next to him with one of the many lap blankets. It was a little cool as the air conditioner worked double time to combat the late afternoon sun. Javier found Castle’s old record collection tucked in a cabinet under the sound system and flipped through the vinyl curiously. 

“Hey,” said Castle quietly, tapping Kevin’s shoulder. The blond looked at him expectantly. “How come it doesn’t bother you to go underwater in the pool like it does in the tub?”

“I don’t know.” Kevin thought about it for a minute. “It’s just different.”

“You don’t associate pools with what happened?”

“I guess not.” Kevin curled his knees up to his chest and pulled the blanket more tightly around his shoulders. His expression was serious as he stared blankly in Javier’s general direction. 

Castle regretted bringing up the bad memories. He tried to lighten the mood. “I think it’s because you trust Javier more than me.” Kevin wasn’t looking at him, so he pushed all of his pout into the tone of his voice. 

“Definitely.” Kevin smirked faintly. 

The doorbell rang. Castle pushed himself off the couch with an exaggerated groan. He grabbed his wallet on the way to the front door where the high school aged delivery boy waited with their pepperoni pizza. Javier and Kevin met him in the kitchen. The writer served up their gourmet feast on paper plates with plastic cups of milk. Javier ate two whole pieces and even Kevin finished one without any cajoling required. The conversation centered around some of their more interesting cases and the hilarious (the boys’ opinion, not so much Castle’s) ways that the author had overreacted to being attacked by some of the more colorful suspects. Castle argued that knowing what they know now about witchcraft, he might have not been so far off thinking he’d been bitten by a real vampire or cursed by a real mummy. And that video predicting peoples’ deaths was creepy, whether you believe in ghosts or not. 

The conversation continued back into the living room where they piled onto the couch to watch the sun set through the floor to ceiling windows at back of the house. They couldn’t actually see the sun, which was behind the large structure, but the sky was still a pretty pinkish-orange color where it met the midnight blue ocean water.

Around eight-thirty the doorbell rang again. The conversation halted immediately and all three males looked in the direction of the front door. “Stay here,” whispered Castle. He motioned for the boys to stay low. He cautiously approached the front door, wishing he had a weapon of some sort. He wasn’t expecting any visitors and his paranoia assured him that the stranger on the other side of the door was a witch set on targeting Kevin and Javier again. 

He slowly unfurled from his crouch to peer through the peephole. As soon as he glimpsed the person waiting outside he immediately relaxed. Feeling somewhat foolish, he pulled open the door widely. 

“Hey, Castle,” said Detective Kate Beckett with a shy smile. 

“Kate.” He leaned forward for a brief kiss. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to be with my team tonight,” she said, keeping her voice low. “Are they still awake?”

She was answered by two pairs of bare feet slapping against the polished wood floors as Kevin and Javier came to see their partner, whose voice they had recognized easily. She knelt down to catch them both in a tight hug, pressing a kiss first to Javier’s cheek and then Kevin’s. Her face was hidden from their view, but Castle could clearly see the lines of distress that cut through her expression during a moment of weakness. By the time she pulled away to look her detectives in the face, the lines were gone. 

“What happened?” asked Javier. Castle wasn’t surprised that the boys could sense something was bothering Kate despite her best efforts to hide whatever it was. “Why are you here?”

“Don’t you want me here?” she asked. Neither detective was distracted by the diversion. 

“Of course, but it’s a very long drive,” said Kevin. “I should know.” He looked up at her through his dark lashes, shamelessly playing his pity card. Kate picked him up as she stood. He wrapped his legs around her waist and his arms around her neck as she supported him with both arms under his butt. She pressed her forehead against his. 

“I’m glad to see the car seat didn’t do any permanent damage, baby boy. Do I need to get my extra large cleaver?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Good.” She kissed the tip of his button nose and then set him back on his feet. 

“First of all,” said Castle. “He _wouldn’t_ know, since he slept the whole way up here, and second, why would you need an oversized knife?”

Kate grinned and it actually looked genuine. “Just a deal we made.”

“What deal?” 

“He would endure the car seat and I would castrate anyone who mocked him about it.” Kate grabbed each of her boys by the hand and led them out of the entry vestibule and into the rest of the house proper. Castle sputtered behind them.

“And you didn’t warn me of that beforehand?”

Kate took up the seat on the couch that Castle had abandoned to answer the door. Kevin and Javier settled in on either side of her. “Are you going to stay up here for the rest of the week, too?” asked Javier. 

“No, I’ll drive back first thing in the morning,” said Kate. “I decided to indulge myself tonight since I missed you all, but I won’t be able to come up again until Saturday.” It was a Fourth of July tradition at Casa de Castle in the Hamptons for the author to hold an Independence Day cookout for some of his neighbors and his friends in the city willing to drive out. That Saturday was the scheduled date of the soiree since the actual holiday fell mid-week. Castle had debated canceling the party in light of the recent events but Martha had convinced him that they would all need the opportunity to relax and have a good time. 

“Did you make any progress on the Valduerez case?” asked Kevin. Beckett lifted her arm so he could slip under it and curl up against her side. She wrapped him up in a sideways hug. Javier was sitting cross-legged, facing her with his knees brushing the side of her thigh. Castle had a feeling that his girlfriend had gone through another emotionally charged day and was coping by keeping her partners physically close yet not actually telling them anything. The theory he had imagined out by the pool fluttered through his mind again. 

“Demming tracked down a sleazy business man named Greg Hanson who knew the victim. He confirmed that Valduerez had been working for him when she died,” said Beckett. “Of course, he doesn’t know who killed her or why. While he didn’t seem overly upset that she had been murdered, he was disgusted with losing his employee.”

“He sounds like an upstanding gentleman,” said Castle. There was more to the story that she wasn’t telling them. The way she would make brief eye contact and then look away all but confirmed it to the author. 

“She was only a little kid,” said Javier. “He ‘employed’ her?”

“He, uh, knew that she wasn’t really eight years old,” said Kate. 

“And?” Apparently Castle wasn’t the only one reading the emotions splashed across Kate’s face like a flashing neon light. Javier leaned forward expectantly and Kevin stared up at her with a serious expression. 

“Hanson is the one who hired the two kidnappers who tried to take you two on Sunday.” Kate said the words rather quickly. Castle suspected that the boys connected the dots as well as he did, even before Kate continued. “He also knows who you two really are. Well, he knows that you’re police officers in your thirties. It took him a while to make the connection between myself and you guys.”

“I guess he wanted to ‘hire’ us, too?” Javier leaned backwards, resting his weight on his palms and tucking his chin against his chest as he scowled. 

“I think that was his intention, yes,” said Kate. 

“So, he got the old hag to turn us for his kiddy theft ring?”

“Not exactly, Javi. We still don’t know why Nora Bellefonte opted to test her new spell on the two of you. Hanson heard through the grapevine that she’d transformed more adults into children and wanted to be the first to capitalize on the opportunity. He was especially interested considering you are cops and come with a lot of useful skills.”

“Did he consider that because we’re cops, we wouldn’t be interested in his crime syndicate?” asked Kevin. 

“No, I guess not,” lied Kate. Castle imagined that the boys didn’t pick up on her misdirection because they wanted to believe the crook was that shortsighted. The writer already had a bunch of his own theories of how the sleaze could overcome the cops’ aversion to breaking the law.

“I can’t wait until the hag comes out of her coma so you can ask her what the fuck she was thinking.”

“Javier, language.” The Hispanic boy spared him a glance but didn’t apologize for swearing. In his eyes, he was still an adult and could talk however he wanted. To Castle, it was too jarring to hear the foul words coming from someone who appeared so cute and innocent. 

Kate shifted awkwardly and blinked rapidly a couple of times. She pressed a lingering kiss to the top of Kevin’s head, using the time to hide her struggle to regain her composure. It was pointless anyway - they all immediately knew bad news was coming. After a silence that seemed to stretch into an eternity, Javier whispered, “Beckett?”

“Nora Bellefonte passed away this morning. She had a heart attack.”

In the bluish light of the moon, augmented only by the desk lamp at the far end of the room, Javier looked as pale as his partner. Kate rested her chin on top of her younger detective’s soft locks and let her eyes slip closed. Her forehead wrinkled as a solitary tear escaped down her cheek. The junior detectives were as still as statues as they tried to absorb the devastating news. Even though Randy Bellefonte, her younger son, could potentially undo the spell, they had all known that Nora Bellefonte was their best chance at returning Ryan and Esposito to normal. 

Castle moved from his chair to the couch. He lifted Javier into his lap so he could sit next to his girlfriend. He threaded the fingers of his right hand with her left while his other arm held the trembling six-year-old close to his heart. A warm dampness spread across his shirt and cooled as it expanded, like frost slowly covering a glass surface. Another long silence engulfed the room, broken only when Castle leaned over to kiss Kate’s temple and unleashed her pent up words. 

“I asked Lanie to perform an autopsy on the body, in addition to the one that the hospital will conduct,” said the lead detective. “It seems a little too convenient that she would die from a heart attack when she was on so many machines to support her after the stroke. I think someone was trying to silence her or prevent her from undoing the spell on Kevin and Javier.”

“Or punishing her for the spell,” said Castle. 

“If we find out that she was also murdered, there’s a chance it was by the same person who killed Valduerez. We should have a new set of leads to follow.”

“What does it matter anymore?” Javier angrily wiped at his eyes and sniffled. “She’s already succeeded in ruining our lives and now she’s gotten away with it.”

“Hey,” chided Castle. “This isn’t over. We’re going to keep searching for a way to reverse this curse, even if it takes years. I already told you, I’m not dealing with either of you as teenagers.”

Kate wiped at her own eyes quickly. Her mascara was smeared a little bit under her large eyes. “I called Randy Bellefonte on my way up here. He’s been going through the rest of his mother’s papers to see if she made any other notes on the Valduerez spell and yours. He is trying to deconstruct the spell to figure out if there are any side effects we should look for and how to create a counter-spell.”

“Even if he can’t figure it out, we know there are more witches in the city,” said Castle. “That Bianca woman from Central Park clearly knows a thing or two about magic.”

“You two have been such troopers through this whole thing,” said Kate. She brushed her fingers over Javier’s flushed cheek. “Please, hang on a little longer and give me the chance to make this better.”

“It would be so much easier to bear if I knew how much longer I had to bear it,” said Javier. 

“I know, sweetheart.”

“Is there any more awful news to share so we can get it over with all at once?” Castle asked. 

“Nothing nearly that bad,” said Kate. “Some of the leads on Valduerez’s murder aren’t panning out like I’d hoped but with time and a little elbow grease, they might still bear fruit.”

“In that case, I think it’s time for bed,” said Castle. Though they hadn’t actually set a ‘bed-time,’ the boys had naturally fallen into the habit of clocking out around eight-thirty or nine. It was nearly ten o’clock now. They must be exhausted, from both their activity filled afternoon and multiple emotional trials. Heck, even he was feeling tired, though he hoped Kate wouldn’t fall asleep right away. He still felt that she had some things she wanted to tell him alone. 

Hearing no protests, he secured his hold on Javier and stood up. The older detective wasn’t as fond of being carried around as the younger so it surprised Castle when Javier rested his heavy head on the writer’s shoulder and draped one arm around his neck for balance. Castle supported him with one arm under his butt and the other securely across his back. He led the way towards the wide staircase, followed closely by Kate and Kevin. The youngest detective walked as closely to his senior partner as possible. She gripped his little hand tightly. 

All four of them gathered in Javier’s room first. The Hispanic detective was fading quickly. He barely managed to mumble good-night after Castle laid him down and Kate pulled the blanket up to his chin. In the second room, Kevin didn’t fall asleep as quickly so Kate sat on the edge of the bed and carded her slender fingers through his hair until his breathing evened out and he relaxed into sleep. 

She met up with Castle in the hallway and practically jumped him. She threw her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth against his desperately. He responded to the onslaught with equal intensity. She pushed him back against the wall, her hands sliding under his shirt as she aligned every inch of her body with his. He tangled his hands in her hair as their chins and noses bumped together painfully during the messy kisses. It took nearly all of his willpower, with a bit of help from his burning lungs, to break the kiss so he could pull her down the hall. Having sex in the hallway, right outside the doors where her partners slept, sounded equal parts risky and disturbing. 

They made it to the master suite with most of their clothing still intact, though that was quickly taken care of in the space between the door and the king sized bed. Castle let gravity pull him onto the silk sheets and Kate came with him, never pausing in their passion. He eventually rolled her sleek body under his and they proceeded to physically soothe their emotional wounds.

_to be continued…_


	17. Tuesday Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Beckett and Castle talk about the case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Seventeen

In the radiant warmth of their shared afterglow, Castle and Beckett stared lovingly at each other. At first they laid perfectly still, breathing nearly in sync and letting themselves become lost in the depth of each other’s eyes. Castle was the first to break the tranquility by reaching up to brush Beckett’s hair away from her face. The tips of his fingers ghosted over her cheek, making her yearn for more contact. Before she could turn her face towards his large palm, he drew it back, instead reaching for her hand.

“There’s more that’s bothering you than just the death of Nora Bellefonte,” he whispered. “It has something to do with Greg Hanson. What didn’t you tell the boys?”

Beckett searched her lover’s eyes and found only affection and affirmation. His knowing her so well and still wanting to be with her gave her the courage she needed to put into the words the dark emotions she’d been harboring since her interview with the disgusting business man. “He realized that I was the officer who interfered with the kidnapping and that meant I probably knew where his targets were. He told me all of the reasons why adults in children’s bodies would be good for his business and then offered to buy them.” Beckett cleared her throat. “Like they’re commodities instead of living, breathing people. If I was going to get something to stick him with, I needed proof that he was dealing in human trafficking. So we haggled and in the end, he wrote me a check.” She blinked quickly a few times and laughed self-deprecatingly. “Five hundred grand each.”

Castle whistled lowly. “That’s a lot of money to make back stealing diamond earrings, especially if there’s no guarantee they’d even cooperate.”

“Well, he seemed pretty confident he could persuade them with a cocktail of drugs and more magic.” Beckett coughed slightly. “As for the money… apparently some industries would pay very well if their illegal trades suddenly became more legal because the minors weren’t actually minors.”

It look Castle a second to understand what she was implying. When he did, his face twisted into an expression of disgusted rage. “That sick son of a bitch.”

“At least he’s in jail now and will be for a long time,” said Beckett. She sat up. Her posture was hunched, with her shoulders sagging in defeat and her back bent under the strain of dealing with a case nearly as personal as her mother’s murder. “But he’s not the only one out there. He made it sound like he was trying to get the upper hand against his competition and that two police officers trapped in children’s bodies were worth a fortune.”

“I promise they will not leave my sight until this is resolved,” said Castle. “We might all end up mutually dead, but we’ll be within seeing range when it happens.”

Beckett laughed. It sounded a little hysterical so she forced herself to stop. “Seeing range?”

“Creative license.”

“Maybe that license should be revoked.” He made a ‘ha-ha’ face at her and pushed himself into a seated position as well. 

“I know just the thing to distract us from this rather disturbing conversation. We keep promising the boys that they can actively work on the murder case remotely but if you’ve been thinking the same way I have, we haven’t actually done anything because there’s always hope that tomorrow they’ll be big again. That doesn’t seem likely right now so we should make good on our promise. I brought my laptop and projector. Let’s recreate the murder board so we can have two teams trying to solve this thing.”

“I don’t think I could sleep anyway,” said Beckett. “Living room?”

“Perfect. You can tell me about your interview with Bianca Castova while we work.”

“Deal.” They tumbled off of opposite sides of the bed and located enough clothing to be mostly modest should either of the junior detectives wake up and find them. As she stood at the top of the stairs Beckett paused, feeling drawn to another part of the house. She changed direction and instead crossed the short bridge to the opposite wing. Castle followed her down the hall where just hours before they had put Kevin and Javier to bed. Beckett pushed open the door to the Irishman’s room since it was the first one they reached. 

Her heart leaped up into her throat when she observed the disheveled covers of the unoccupied bed. She had to consciously fight down the panic twisting in her gut. Castle grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the room. He practically barged into Javier’s room. Beckett was sure she would be greeted with the same terrifying sight of the empty bed. 

“Jeez,” said Castle with a breathless laugh. It took a while for her heart rate to slow as well. She felt silly for overreacting. At least she hadn’t been the only one. All of the witchcraft they’d been exposed to recently was causing them to jump at shadows. 

In the middle of the full size bed, Kevin had made himself comfortable on top of the thin blanket, snuggled against the slightly larger boy. Javier lay on his side with one arm wrapped around his partner’s waist securely. Both slept soundly, their heads only centimeters apart on the shared pillow. 

Beckett carefully tugged the blanket out from under the younger boy so she could cover him with it in case the room became too chilly during the night. They both slept soundly through the minor jostling. She pressed a kiss to Javier’s cheek and Kevin’s forehead. She hated what had been done to her fellow cops but at least they had each other. Neither had to suffer alone. Javier was protective of his friends and good at being such, so Beckett knew whatever had driven Kevin out of sleep and into his partner’s room wouldn’t bother him again that night. 

She slipped her hand into Castle’s. They exited the room and maintained their silence until they were all the way downstairs in the kitchen. Castle set some wine to mulling while Beckett opened his laptop. With a coy smile, she typed in KatherineAlexis when prompted for the password. Access granted. Kevin did have a point; the writer was not good at guarding his electronics. 

She opened his “murder board” program to see if he had already started something. There was a file for the Valduerez case but it was empty. She typed in some of the basic information for the murder victim. While the wine was steeping with the spices, Castle leaned over to see her progress. “I’ll send you some photographs and some more information in the morning. Did you happen to stop by Kevin’s apartment on the way up here?”

“Ah, no,” said Castle. “I thought the fewer stops the better. It was traumatic enough getting him in the car the first time. I didn’t want to repeat the experience.”

“Understandable.”

“So, tell me about your interview with the witch, Bianca.”

Beckett paused to gather her thoughts. She cycled back through her memories of the meeting at the café across the street from Central Park. When she had arrived at the designated meeting place, the older woman had already been seated at a table on the terrace with a glass of iced tea. 

_Detective Kate Beckett strode across the tile floor of the terrace. Just before she reached the small circular table under one of the numerous linen umbrellas she checked to make sure that her phone was set to vibrate. The clock read 4:52 PM. Bianca smiled warmly at her and motioned to the cast iron seat at the opposite side of the table. Beckett sat down and folded her hands on the tabletop._

_“Thank you for meeting me, Ms. Castova.”_

_“Please, I asked you to call me Bianca. I have all but abandoned that surname.” The self-professed witch adjusted her diamond studded bracelet with perfectly manicured fingers._

_“My apologies, Bianca,” amended Beckett._

_“How are the little ones?”_

_“Fine. We’re all grateful that Kevin’s injuries are gone.” Beckett fidgeted in the silence that followed as Bianca regally sipped at her tea. “Do you know a man named Greg Hanson?”_

_Bianca’s delicate nose crinkled in distaste at the name. “Unfortunately, I have had the displeasure of making Mr. Hanson’s acquaintance. He is what most consider a leech in the magic community. He has no talent of his own but he takes advantage of those who do.”_

_“He is the one who tried to kidnap my detectives.”_

_“I suspected as much,” said Bianca with an air of disdain. “He is chin deep in this retrogression racket.”_

_“Racket?” asked Beckett. “Are there more people under this spell than just Serafina Valduerez and the detectives?”_

_Bianca waved her trim hand in the air dismissively. “There are always a dozen or so spread across the country. The knowledge of how to bend time in such a fashion isn’t exactly new. The councils frown against the use of such blatant black magic but you should understand how difficult it can be to uphold the law.”_

_“How many others are in New York City?”_

_“At the time, just two of which we know.” Bianca gave Beckett another of her matronly smiles. “But there are probably a score of past victims who are now too ill or feeble to go through the transformation again. Eternal youth does not come without a price.”_

_“You speak from experience.” Beckett had meant to phrase it like a question but Bianca took it as a statement._

_“I do.” The lead detective was a little embarrassed to admit that she admired the woman across from her for her poise and unshakable self-confidence. She gave no pretense of being ashamed at what she was or did, nor did she bother to hide that information. Apparently a hundred and forty years was enough time to accept one’s self completely. “What is different about your little ones, which makes them so very interesting to myself and my colleagues, is that the spell they are under is designed to not wear off.” Bianca’s guard slipped a bit then and Beckett was privy to her giddy curiosity._

_“I’ve heard as much. I have every intention of having the spell removed if it won’t go away on its own.”_

_“Of course,” said Bianca. Her disappointment was barely veiled._

_“Will you help me undo the spell? Surely you are powerful enough to undo Bellefonte’s magic.”_

_“I cannot.” Bianca frowned deeply and glanced down the street as she thought for a minute. “Katherine, you know almost nothing about my world and it is causing you to nurture impossible hopes and ask for things you cannot have.”_

_“Why will you not help me? Why bother to meet with me at all if your only purpose is to frustrate me? I will never give up on undoing this curse that Bellefonte put them under.” Beckett’s voice rose towards the end of her tirade, drawing the attention of some of the other patrons. Bianca reached over and placed her cool hand over Beckett’s trembling one. She looked genuinely remorseful but resolute in her decision._

_“Calm down, Katherine. I will try to explain briefly in a way that will make sense to you.” Beckett prompted her to continue with a hard look. “There are many different kinds of witches in the world, though we all tend to fall under the authority of the same governing body. There are those who are born with the ability to work magic and those who acquire it through deals with supernatural creatures. Some, like myself, choose to use their power for the betterment of people. Healing injuries, helping to deliver newborns, offering advice on different topics - those are all types of ‘white’ magic. Too many, however, use their magic for selfish gains, like turning unsuspecting police detectives into small children.”_

_“How does returning said detectives to their rightful size and age not fall under the heading of healing people?”_

_“Bending time or unnaturally changing something’s composition will always be considered black magic,” said Bianca. Her tone carried a note of finality. “Those who dabble in the dark arts, even just once, condemn their souls irreversibly. Though I sympathize with your pain, you can see why I will not undo what has been done. You should keep that in mind as well concerning the younger Bellefonte son.”_

_“If he undoes his mother’s curse, he’ll be damned, just like her?”_

_“It is likely.”_

_“Wasn’t he practicing his mother’s magic already? Is he already lost?”_

_“That I do not know,” said Bianca. “We keep track of those practicing black magic. Sometimes it is necessary to engage those willing to do the unthinkable for a price. Randall Bellefonte is a delicate case. Some think his conception was unnatural.”_

_“Unnatural?” Beckett’s head was starting to spin. She was having a difficult time processing everything that Bianca was telling her._

_“Nora Bellefonte was born with barely any magic ability, much like her loathsome elder son. It was obvious from the day he was born that Rayford would never possess any true talent. Nora’s thirst for power was unquenchable in her youth. She started making dark deals to gain more power and tricked one of the coven’s elite members into getting her pregnant again. When Randall was born, he was everything she had hoped for. His natural ability concerned the Council but he was an innocent babe and untouchable. To our relief, he left the fold and abandoned his mother’s lifestyle until you dragged him back in.”_

_“I didn’t drag him back in,” denied Beckett. “His brother and mother did this.”_

_“Either way, it would be better if he did not become involved in this situation.”_

_“So far, he’s the only one who’s shown the slightest bit of compassion for what was done to my friends without their consent,” snapped Beckett. She swallowed her emotions bitterly. “For all I know, you’re no better than Hanson, wanting them trapped in this curse for your own benefit.”_

_Bianca’s eyes flashed dangerously at the comparison. “I know you are upset, Katherine, and it is difficult to be denied something you want. Do not make the mistake of comparing me to that leech again. Those two little boys are of interest to a lot of influential people, as well as more seedy individuals. The Council is trusting you to keep them hidden. If we think you are not up to the task, the boys will be taken from you. You may think that I am denying you anything but I have bartered on your behalf that you may keep what you do have. Nora is the first to permanently retrogress anyone and she managed to do it on two people simultaneously. The implications of that are extraordinary and the spell should be studied at length.”_

_“They’re not science… magic… whatever experiments.”_

_“I know, Katherine. Keep them away from those who wish to turn them into one.”_

_“I just don’t understand your motive. What is your end game, Bianca?”_

_“I want you to trust me, Katherine. In my long lifetime, I have learned that trust is not easily gained but honesty and transparency go a long way. It will take a long time but in the end you will see than I am on your side. I might be the only one who is.” Bianca leaned back in her chair and watched her words soak into Beckett’s mind._

_“Then help me fix this.” Bianca only shook her head sadly. Beckett couldn’t stand to sit on that little terrace any longer. She pulled out her wallet and dropped enough cash on the table to cover the drinks and a small tip. “If you had anything to do with the Valduerez murder, you’ll be hearing from me again.” The detective gave the witch one last penetrating look before leaving._

“And that was when I decided to come up here,” said Beckett. During her recounting of her meeting with Bianca, the wine had finished mulling and Castle poured them each a mug of the warm beverage. The detective look a slow drink of hers, relishing the sweetness and the heady feeling from the alcohol. 

“What do you think of the white witch?” asked Castle. 

“I don’t know,” said Beckett. “All I have is her word about any of it. Some small part of me actually wants to believe her, which only makes me distrust her more. You know that I don’t give people the benefit of the doubt as a rule.”

“Yes, I’m quite familiar with that rule,” said Castle. “We should let things play out and see where all of the pieces truly land. I restate my promise to not let the boys out of my sight until this case is solved.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Rick,” said Beckett. She reached over to take his hand and squeeze it. 

“You’d probably have gone crazy by now,” he joked. “Don’t worry about Bellefonte the Younger. He can make his own decisions, just like Bianca. Besides, I never got the impression that you were a believer in the afterlife.”

“I don’t know what I believe anymore,” said Beckett. “Even before this, I didn’t write off a higher being. I’m just too much of an evidence person to commit blindly.”

They enjoyed their drinks in the peaceful predawn quiet, each lost in thought. Beckett’s thoughts diverged back to her murder case. She realized that she had been spending an inordinate amount of time wrestling with her emotions and not enough time trusting her instincts. She knew she was a good detective and she could solve this case. She just had to let it happen and stop trying to force the pieces to fall into place. 

The clock in the living room started to chime, sounding out five low tones in the fading darkness. Beckett tucked her hair behind her ear. “I should probably get going,” she said. She set her empty mug on the counter. 

“Don’t you want to lay down for a little bit first?”

“I’ll be fine. I feel too wired to sleep, anyway.”

“Okay. Make sure you take a break at some point. Call me when you have down time.”

“I will.” She smiled fondly at him. He leaned forward to press his lips against hers. The kiss went no further than that but it filled Beckett with happiness all the same. She walked over to the foyer to collect her jacket and keys from where she’d left them the night before. She kissed Castle one last time before walking out the front door and back into the thick of her case.

_to be continued…_


	18. Wednesday Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein even the Hamptons aren't safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Eighteen

Three hours later, Castle awoke to overly excited voices talking about the latest celebrity scandal. He groaned loudly and tried to stretch. Something heavy rested on his shins and he couldn’t move his arms very far thanks to the back of the couch and the armrest on which his head lay. His shifting nearly sent the laptop balanced precariously on his chest crashing to the floor but he grabbed it at the last second. He blinked his eyes blearily and tried to get a better grasp of his surroundings. 

The weight on his lower legs was Kevin, wrapped in his favorite throw blanket and watching the HD flat screen intently. In the chair kitty-corner to the couch was his partner, also fixated on the television. Javier balanced a bowl of cereal in one hand and a spoon in the other. Castle recognized the talking heads on the screen as the hosts of Good Morning America. He didn’t bother to figure out what they were talking about today. 

“How long have you two been up?” he asked. He wiped his hands over his face in an attempt to clear away the last of his sleepiness. Unlike the morning before, they’d managed to feed themselves. Still, he needed to work on waking up before or at least at the same time as the kids. 

“Not long,” said Javier around a mouthful of milky corn puffs. 

“Did you even go to bed last night?” asked Kevin.

“What makes you think I didn’t?” Castle stiffly sat up. Kevin adjusted his position so the writer could drop his feet to the floor. He wearily made his way into the open kitchen. 

“You’re wearing the same clothes as yesterday and there’s an open bottle of wine in the kitchen. We can’t quite decide if you and Beckett were being overly friendly after we went to sleep or if she got mad enough to kick you out bed.” 

“None of the above.” Not that Castle would admit to the first scenario. “Did you forget how to make coffee?” He dug out his grinder and a clean filter.

“Guess so.” Castle stuck his tongue out at the smart aleck six-year-old. 

“When did Beckett leave?” asked Kevin. He followed Castle into the kitchen, still wrapped in the fleece blanket. 

“Around five. She wanted to beat traffic back into the city.” Castle brushed his hand over the top of Kevin’s unkempt hair. “Did you eat breakfast?”

“Nuh-uh.” 

While Castle was putting the re-corked bottle of wine into his professional grade refrigerator he pulled out an orange. The contents of the stainless steel appliance were pretty pitiful. “I need to go grocery shopping,” he commented. As his coffee brewed, he peeled the orange and set the juicy slices on a small plate. He swooped the toddler up and set him on the peninsula within reach of the fruit. “Eat.” He helped himself to a few slices as well. Kevin swung his legs slightly as he chewed thoughtfully on his piece. 

“Do you really think we’ll grow up again?” he asked eventually. 

“What do you mean?” The coffee finished brewing. The writer set about making himself a mug of the bitter drink. 

“You’ve said twice now that you didn’t want to deal with us as teenagers but what if we stay this size forever?”

“I guess I just assumed the spell had rewound your development and it would carry on from there,” said Castle. “I suppose it’s equally possible that the spell turned you into a baby for good.” 

“I wasn’t that bad as an adolescent,” muttered the blond boy. Castle regarded him closely for a minute.

“Maybe not. I’m more afraid of that one over there.” He pointed towards the living room. “Don’t worry about it, kid. We’ll fix this mess long before then and if we don’t, then I guess we’ll find out just how uncontrollable the two of you really were.” Castle tweaked Kevin’s nose. “Beckett and I aren’t going to abandon either of you. You’re stuck with us, just like all of the other kids who think their parents are incompetent baboons.”

“Thanks, Castle.”

“You’re welcome, Kevin. Now, keep eating.” There were only two slices of orange left. Kevin obediently finished them off. Javier wandered into the kitchen with his empty bowl and spoon. Castle pointed towards the dishwasher that was tucked under the counter next to the sink. 

“What did you and Beckett talk about last night?” asked Javier after he took care of his dishes. He leaned against the counter next to his partner’s legs which continued to swing back and forth, thudding against the cabinets faintly. 

“She told me a little about her meeting with Bianca Castova.”

“That weird witchy lady?” Javier picked at one of the many tassels lining the edges of Kevin’s blanket. 

“Yes. She thinks more people like Hanson are going to keep coming for you two so we’ll probably be hanging out here for a while.”

“She seemed awfully upset about the Hanson interrogation,” said Javier. He pulled a little too hard on the tassel and earned his partner’s ire when the blanket slipped off of Kevin’s shoulder. Instead of backing away, Javier returned the sharp slap. Kevin tried to kick Javier, who grabbed his partner’s ankle and couldn’t be shaken off. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” Castle moved to break up the escalating fight. “What’s this?”

“I’m bored,” complained Javier. He went back to leaning against the counter, his shoulder brushing Kevin’s knee. 

“How can you be bored? You just woke up.” Castle sighed at the Cuban’s pout. “Let me get dressed. You two are still in pajamas as well. We can go to the farmer’s market to get something for lunch and dinner.” He helped Kevin down from the countertop and pointed the two towards the stairs. He watched them go, making sure another shoving match didn’t start. He really hoped they weren’t going to start infighting. That was one thing he didn’t miss about having only one child of his own. 

Castle hopped in the shower and quickly went through his morning routine. His three hours of sleep weren’t affecting him yet and he hoped the trend continued. Once finished, he went to check on the boys. They were seated in the bay window in Javier’s room, watching the dark clouds rolling in from the ocean. It was rare that precipitation came in from the east but not unheard of. The storm was probably still an hour or so off, but they should hurry to make it home before it hit. 

Since it was overcast, and they were in a city where no one knew them, Castle agreed that they could forgo the baseball caps. Kevin had selected a miniature pair of khaki cargo shorts and a navy blue NYPD shirt for himself. Javier preferred basketball shorts and dark yellow Corona tee. “They make shirts with beer ads on them for kids?” Castle didn’t fully approve. He’d have words with his mother the next time he saw her. 

The open plaza where the market was open every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday was located on the far side of Southampton. Unfortunately, that meant driving the car. Castle pulled open the rear passenger door and waited patiently while the younger detective morosely climbed into his seat. Castle suffered through a visual of Beckett coming after him with her meat cleaver and wisely kept his mouth shut as he checked the buckles holding the toddler in place. He leaned over Kevin to check that Javier’s belt was secure as well. Satisfied that his charges were safe, he slammed the door shut and walked around the car to the driver’s side. 

He wasn’t the only one trying to get in a quick stop at the market before the rain arrived. The stalls were filled with people jostling amongst each other for first pick at the fresh fruits and vegetables. Castle considered asking for a rain check but the boys were already staring at the crush excitedly. He bolstered his courage and followed them in. 

The miniature detectives had a much easier time darting through the small spaces between the shoppers and the stalls. “Don’t get too far away from me,” Castle scolded at least twice as he struggled to keep track of them. He decided to let them explore before making any attempts to buy food or he’d surely lose them. 

“Castle, can we get a watermelon?” asked Kevin. He and his partner had come to a stop in front of the stall boasting the largest organic melons in the state. 

“For you, anything.” If the kid was showing interest in eating something, Castle wasn’t going to deny him. “However, let’s pick up the heaviest thing in here last, okay?”

“Look, they even have prickly pear leaves here,” said Javier. 

“Imported from the south,” said the stall owner proudly. 

“I have no idea what to do with those, Javi.” Castle picked one up and nearly sliced his finger open on one of the spines. He dropped it back on the table and clutched his hand to his chest defensively. 

“Mama Esposito just grills them,” said Kevin. Javier nodded in agreement. 

“Right.” Castle dragged the boys away from the scary cactus pads and on to less dangerous eats. They worked through all of the different vegetable and fruit displays, interspersed with fresh baked goods, canned items, and various dairy substances. Castle made a mental list of the foods in which the detectives expressed interest. Once they’d gotten over their initial excitement for the bustling market, Kevin and Javier stayed closer to the writer, giving him the chance to shop. He also purchased two canvas bags with the market’s logo stitched into the side. Each boy was given one to carry around and they slowly filled the bags with the ingredients for the next few meals. 

The orange Castle had shared with Kevin that morning didn’t sustain the grown man very long and being around all the food was making him ravenous. There were a couple stalls along the edges of the market that served prepared food and were surrounded by rough wooden picnic benches. After returning to the back of the produce section for Kevin’s watermelon, Castle stationed the boys at one of the tables and told them to stay put while he got snacks. 

The kid’s menu consisted of homemade peanut butter on fresh baked bread with a choice of sweet preservatives. The adult menu didn’t have that great of a selection either. Castle settled for a cold-cut club sandwich. The kiddy food came with cartons of milk so Castle ordered an iced tea for himself. The boys were where he had left them, to his relief. 

Javier was apparently as hungry as the writer. He worked through his messy sandwich steadily. Kevin wasn’t interested in the combined ingredients but he used his finger to scoop out the super sweet peanut butter and eat that. As they ate, the boys chattered between themselves about their observations of the market and how it compared to the ones Kevin frequented in the city. Castle listened to them absently. Half of his thoughts were with his girlfriend. She hadn’t called him yet. He hoped that meant she was on a hot lead and simply didn’t have time to check in.

“Richard Castle. I didn’t know you were in town.” 

The writer looked up sharply at the female who had greeted him. It was Melinda Barnes, a socialite who kept a summer home in East Hamptons. He’d met her at numerous social gatherings, mostly because she was drawn to his celebrity. She was easy enough on the eyes, with golden blonde hair and a smooth, even tan. Her smile glittered with artificially whitened teeth which stood out all the more due to her fire truck red lips. 

“Melinda, how are you? I just got into town yesterday.”

“I’m doing well.” Her exaggerated grin slipped slightly as she glanced at Castle’s companions. They stared at her in return. Castle wished he could hear what they were thinking because their expressions confused him. He honestly couldn’t tell if they liked their first impression of Melinda or not. 

A woman in her early seventies came up behind Melinda. Her gray hair had started out styled but the humidity proceeding the storm had done its damage. Her small black eyes reminded Castle of a crow’s. “Agatha, you’re here as well? My mother will be pleased to see you when she comes up this weekend.” That was an outright lie. The two older woman liked each other about as well as cats liked dogs. Melinda’s mother was judgmental and snarky, unafraid to let you know exactly how much she disliked you. 

“Tell Martha I’d be delighted to have tea with her.” Castle nearly cringed at the acidic tone. “Whose children are these?” Her beady eyes flickered between Kevin and Javier. 

“This is Kevin and Javier,” introduced Castle. He pointed to each boy as he said the name. “They’re Kate’s boys. Do you remember my girlfriend? She came out here one weekend with me last summer.”

“Yes, I remember her,” said Melinda. “You two caused quite the stir with your ‘murder investigation.’ You must be getting pretty serious if you’re taking care of her children.”

“They don’t look like brothers,” said Agatha.

“Mother, they probably have different fathers,” said Melinda in a low voice. She shouldn’t have bothered. The three males seated at the table could hear her just fine. 

Agatha scoffed. “They’re right about that woman being a hooker.” 

“Excuse me?” Javier sat up a little straighter and glared at the pair of females. 

“Javier, leave it,” hissed Castle. 

“You’ll find out soon enough, boy, that your mother is a no-good tramp,” said Agatha. She turned to Castle. “How many affairs has she been in that haven’t resulted in illegitimate offspring?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” said Castle. He stood up to his full height which left him towering over mother and daughter. “Kate is twice the woman you’ll ever be, combined. Why don’t you keep your sanctimonious opinions to yourselves.”

“Do you know to whom you’re speaking, young man?” demanded Agatha.

“Yes, the town witch.” He meant that figuratively, not literally. Supremely offended, the two woman stormed off. Castle slumped back into his seat. Of all the people in the Hamptons to encounter, it had to be those two. 

“Who the fuck is that bitch?” demanded Javier.

“Nobody. She’s just a nobody busybody who can’t stand anyone being less miserable than she is. And Javier, watch your language or I’ll introduce you to a bar of soap.” 

“Who else thinks Beckett is a hooker?”

“No one thinks that.”

“’They’ do,” argued Javier. 

“Come on, stop it. They’re just ignorant gossips who are jealous that I’m more connected and won’t give them the time of day. Melinda knows that Kate is ten times hotter than her.”

“Damn straight.” Javier was still pissed. Castle knew the two detectives were very protective of Kate. Still, that didn’t excuse the adult language. Castle gave the six-year-old a warning look. 

“Can we go now?” asked Kevin. He pushed his desecrated PB&J away glumly.

“Drink your milk, buddy, and we’ll go,” promised Castle. The sky was getting darker. The writer cleared the rest of the trash while the boys finished off their drinks. Once the cardboard cartons were disposed of as well, Castle collected the bags of groceries and followed the boys out to the parking lot. He put the produce in the trunk while Kevin and Javier got situated in the backseat. The first fat drops of rain started to fall as Castle slammed the trunk shut so he hurried around to slide into the driver’s seat to avoid getting soaked. He twisted around in his seat to check on the boys’ restraints before starting the car’s engine. He managed to pull out of the dirt lot before the rest of the patrons hurried to escape the storm. He turned onto the main road and gunned it. The horses under the hood roared as he accelerated, making him feel minutely better. This car didn’t have the same power as his Ferrari but it still made for a fun ride. 

He had to slow down to a more responsible speed when the rain started coming down heavily. He could barely see ten feet in front of the hood. Lightening cracked nearby and the whole car shook with the thunder’s vibrations. Once the hail started, Castle had to pull over to the side of the road with his hazard lights flashing. “You guys okay?” He undid his seat belt so he could turn to see the two in the back. 

“Fine.”

“Yeah.”

Castle looked forward again, peering into the gray haze. Now he couldn’t even see the front end of his car. The tiny chunks of ice continued to batter the dark silver finish of his Mercedes. He hoped it wouldn’t do too much damage. 

“Castle, look!” The writer turned his face in the direction Javier was pointing excitedly. He couldn’t see anything but rain. 

“What are you pointing at, Javi?”

“That person is walking in the storm and glowing,” said the older boy.

“Glowing?” Castle strained his eyes but still came up blank. 

“He’s coming this way,” said Kevin in a small voice. Castle abandoned his fruitless search to regard the toddler. 

“You can see it too?”

Kevin nodded. “He’s glowing.”

“Castle, drive away,” said Javier. The author immediately focused on the fear in Javier’s voice. “Go, go!”

“It’s too dangerous and I can’t just leave someone stranded in this hail,” he argued. 

“Just go, please.”

“I don’t even see anyone out there, Javi- Shit!”

A dark shape appeared in the dim light. It was the slouched figure of a man, walking steadily towards the parked vehicle as if he wasn’t being beaten by a barrage of hailstones. In fact, now Castle could see that the man _wasn’t_ being struck. The stones bounced away without coming any closer to his form than a few inches. His dusty black tuxedo remained dry and his slightly dragging feet repelled the water from a wide puddle through which he splashed. 

The stranger didn’t stop until he walked right into the side of the Mercedes, his face smashed against Javier’s window. In deafening unison, the boys screamed. Castle’s flight instinct kicked in and he threw the vehicle into drive and pushed the gas pedal all the way down to the floorboards. His rear tires caught in the mud at the side of the road and spun ineffectively. The creepy man that was freaking out the detectives beat on the glass with his fists. Javier undid his seat belt and slid off the seat to curl up on the floor in front of Kevin’s feet. Kevin pried at the five point restraint holding him in place but couldn’t undo the clasps. 

The man backed off the side of the car enough to grab the handle and try to wrench the door open. The doors locked automatically after exceeding speeds of twenty miles per hour but Castle didn’t want to wait to find out if the system would hold. He tried putting the car in reverse to see if he could get better traction that way. The car whined in protest and the odometer flickered between white and red RPMs. 

The locks did hold. The man gave up on gaining access through the driver’s side and moved around to the passenger’s side. He once again pressed his face against the glass. His eyes were open so wide as he stared into the backseat of the car that Castle could see white all around the irises. The writer had wondered about the sanity of plenty of people in his life but this time he knew without a doubt that the man beating the side of his car was insane. Manic was written all over his face, distorted by being pressed against the glass. The boys continued to cry and beg him to get out of there. Kevin ducked as low as he could, covering his head with his arms. Javier gripped the inside handle of the door with all of his might as if he’d be able to keep the door closed should the man overcome the locks. 

The hail continued to beat down on the roof of the Mercedes and the ground around them but it never struck the crazed man. Castle’s heart nearly stopped when he realized that witchcraft was likely being used. The insane man trying to break into his car in the middle of a hailstone was a witch. His vital organ missed another beat when the power locks in all four doors suddenly released. The witch grinned and went for the door handle. Castle hit the button to re-lock all of the doors. They engaged just before the witch could open the door. He looked confused when it wouldn’t open. He lifted a hand to cast his Open Sesame spell again. The locks clicked open but Castle was ready. He immediately set them again. It was to their great advantage that something besides sanity was missing from the witch’s head. It took him a long time to understand why his spell kept failing.

Lightning struck again, nearly blinding the writer. The thunder shook the ground hard enough to dislodge the witch from the side of the car. Immediately, he fell forward again, once again leering at his trapped quarries.

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good Morning America belongs to ABC.


	19. Wednesday Late Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the guys get lucky one last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Nineteen

Lightning struck again, nearly blinding the writer. The thunder shook the ground hard enough to dislodge the witch from the side of the car. Immediately, he fell forward, once again leering at his trapped quarries. Javier shrieked when he accidentally looked up and caught another glimpse of the witch’s face. Kevin echoed his partner’s fear, though his eyes were still hidden under his skinny arms. 

Castle tried one more time to urge the car back onto the road. He forced himself to not push too hard on the gas. The car inched forward. He nearly started crying himself in relief. The witch tried to climb onto the roof of the car when he noticed the gradual getaway. Castle kept up his careful pace until one of the rear tires was back on the asphalt. It was slick with rain and hail but at least it wasn’t liquid mud. The car jumped forward at the contact and Castle gave it more juice. The Mercedes responded with a purr. He heard a loud thud as the man slid off the roof, hit the trunk, and then was gone, rolling away in the rearview mirror. Castle drove blindly, only able to see one yellow stripe at a time in his headlights as he raced down the road as quickly as he dared.

About a mile and a half up the road the hail eased, leaving only heavy rain. Castle checked all of his mirrors at least three dozen times to make sure no one was following them as he navigated back to his house. His chest ached as the adrenaline started to wear off and his nervous system came back online. Behind him, the boys struggled to control themselves. Castle didn’t bother to tell Javier to get back into his booster seat. The two cursed partners were clinging to each other tightly and braced as if expecting another attack any second.

The car finally limped into the garage of his summer home. Castle waited until the paneled door was completely shut before killing the car’s engine and dropping his head back against his seat, trying to breathe. The small sounds of distress from his friends reminded him that the ordeal wasn’t quite over yet. He exited the car and moved quickly to the passenger side. He freed Kevin from the hated car seat and held the shaking body tightly against his chest. He could feel the boy’s heart beating wildly. Kevin wrapped his arms in a near stranglehold around Castle’s neck and hid his face again, unwilling to look at his surroundings. Castle shifted Kevin’s weight to one arm so he could use the other to tug Javier out of his fetal position on the floor. “Come on, kiddo. We’re almost in.”

Javier cautiously climbed out of the car and immediately plastered himself against Castle’s side. He clutched the writer’s shirt in an iron hold. Castle could barely close the car door, though he managed somehow. He figured the groceries wouldn’t expire in a couple of hours; they hadn’t bought anything that required immediate refrigeration. He gripped Javier’s shoulder to maintain contact with the boy as they hurried into the house. Javier’s eyes darted around them frantically, seeking out the next crazed witch that would come after them. 

Castle headed towards the stairs. Javier had to give the man a little space if they wanted to ascend. Castle offered Javier his hand to clutch instead. Together they mounted the stairs and turned towards the master suite. Castle kicked the door shut once they were inside. He had to reclaim his hand from the terrified Hispanic detective in order to lock the door. It wasn’t necessary but it made them all feel a little better. He pried Kevin’s arms from around his neck and set the boy on the bare mattress of the king size bed. He’d stripped the sheets when he was getting ready for the day. Fortunately, the two detectives were too distracted by their recent trauma to relate the unmade bed to Castle and Beckett’s amorous activities. 

Castle drew closed all of the window dressings even though he doubted that creepy witches could peer through the second story glass. He tossed his discarded duvet onto the bed before heading into the closet to search for more blankets. He found a couple which he added to the duvet. 

The detectives were still a bit catatonic so Castle helped them pull off their sandals. He kicked off his own shoes. He sat down on the bed and scooted to the middle where he wrapped the duvet around his shoulders and leaned back against the headboard. Kevin still had his eyes squeezed shut so Castle pulled him up to the head of the bed. Javier crawled up to him under his own power. Each of the boys latched onto him like limpets. Castle wrapped the thick blanket around them and pulled up the others, creating a safe little nest in the middle of his master bedroom as the storm continued to rage outside. The author squeezed Javier tightly in a sideways hug while rubbing Kevin’s back in an attempt to get the boy to relax enough to open his eyes. He whispered pointless words of comfort and reassurance. 

The breathing of the two detectives remained uneven long after Castle felt some semblance of self-control return himself. He mused over that for a while. The younger males were in a strange sort of limbo as far as he could tell. Their bodies were obviously those of small children. Their minds appeared to retain all of their adult memories and rational abilities with the exception of instances like this when confronted with strong emotions. They both reacted to certain stimuli as if they actually were only four and six, such as the panicked tears over the psycho in the rain, Kevin’s tantrum in response the car seat, and Javier’s urge to start a fight to assuage his boredom. The full grown detectives never would have clung to him so tightly before the change. Right now he suspected he wouldn’t be able to pry them off with a crowbar. 

His own feelings and responses had morphed to align with theirs, as well. He felt for them like he felt about Alexis; protective, responsible, and affectionate. It wasn’t a recent shift, either. He remembered how he felt the day that he and his daughter had taken the boys to the park to play football. The only difference was that back then, the paternal urges had made him uncomfortable. Now, he couldn’t imagine not being the one to playact as a father-figure. It helped that they clearly felt the same way about him.

Javier squirmed against his side so Castle loosened his hold to let the boy find a more comfortable position. Javier pushed himself up until he could rest his head on the writer’s shoulder and return the hug, though his short arms didn’t quite make it all the way around Castle’s broad chest. Castle placed his arm around the boy’s back and rested his chin on top of the dark hair. He couldn’t see Javier’s face in this position but he could tell by the tenseness in the small frame and the quick breathing that the shrunken detective was still struggling to cope with the witch attack. 

“Talk to me, Javi,” said Castle. “I know you two have seen crazy people before. What was so different about this guy?”

“He didn’t have a face,” whispered the six-year-old. He shuddered with the admission. 

“What do you mean?” Castle had seen the man’s pale, slightly bloated face himself. 

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. How did he not have a face? I saw him plastered against the window, too, and he appeared to have all his features.”

Javier lifted his head, dislodging Castle. His dark eyes swirled with a mix of haunting fear and confusion. “You didn’t see?”

“See what?” 

The boy blinked slowly and his little nose scrunched up as he tried to find words to describe what he remembered. “He didn’t have a face…” Javier trailed off. The older detective glanced down at his partner. All either of them could see was the top of the blond head, though Castle could clearly feel the shivering of the balled up form. Javier looked up at Castle again. “I mean, he had a face, but it looked like a skull with only chunks of flesh hanging off of it. His eyes had no color. They were just black holes. And he glowed.”

The description was completely different from what Castle had observed but it would explain why the boys were so terrified. He imagined that he’d be not much more than a blathering ball of nerves if he’d seen the man as a walking corpse. “What else did you see?”

“I tried not to look,” said Javier. 

“Was it just his face or did the rest of his body look skeletal?” Castle distinctly remembered the man banging on the glass with his bare fists. 

“All I can remember is his face.” Javier sniffled and his breath hitched. 

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you and no scary witch is going to take you from me.” 

“A witch?” Javier rubbed at his right eye tiredly. 

“I didn’t see the glowing or his freaky visage but it was clear the rain wasn’t getting to him and then he started messing with the door locks. I assume he was using magic.”

“Oh.” Javier considered this for a minute. “Bianca did not look like that.”

“That’s right, you met Kate’s white witch. What did she look like?”

“I don’t know how to describe it. Not bad, just different. She was pretty for a very old lady.” Castle himself was already into his forties and didn’t necessarily think fifty was “very old.” He frowned at the boy. “Fifty isn’t ancient, you know.”

“Huh? She had to have been like a hundred and ten, bro. Witchiness must make you age well.”

Realization dawned on Castle then. It very much sounded to him like the boys, probably due to the spell they were under, were seeing the various witches they encountered much differently than he or Kate would. He remembered Kate telling him that the boys had been entranced by Bianca Castova when they first met. Being a white witch must be easier on the complexion than being an evil witch. He explained his theory to Javier. The boy didn’t look overly thrilled with his new witch-dar abilities. Castle, on the other hand, felt a little better knowing that the boys would be able to recognize a potential adversary right away. 

The storm sounded like it was moving on. Flashes of lightning still lit up the space around the drapes but the echoing thunder was delayed more and more with each strike. “Shall we find out if any more severe storms are headed our way?”

Javier shrugged. The writer had to stretch his arm as far as it would go to reach the remote controller on the nightstand. He barely managed to reach it with the tips of his fingers and slide it close enough to pick up. He brought his arm back around Javier but didn’t complete the embrace so he could aim the controller at the television. He found the local news station and settled in to watch the aftermath of the storm. 

A familiar face appeared on the screen. Cassidy Simpson was the pretty reporter for the local WVVH channel and covered most of the interesting stories in the small area. Her bottle blonde hair twisted about her face as the last of the storm’s high winds gusted across the isolated roadway. Castle immediately recognized the stretch of road. It was part of the local highway that got one from the residential area where Castle’s summer house was located to the commercial area where the farmer’s market was held. 

“We’ve just gotten confirmation that the body found on the side of Highway 27 is that of Walter Yates, a previous resident of the Hamptons. For those of you unfamiliar with our local celebrities, Mr. Yates was one of the city’s prominent businessmen. He passed away in 2012, leaving his local restaurant empire to his wife and son.”

A picture of the deceased man appeared on the screen. Castle gaped open mouthed at the stern looking man. Add a manic glint to his eyes and the sickly pallor of death and there was no doubt Yates was the one who had attacked Castle’s car. 

Cassidy continued, “It appears that Mr. Yates was removed from his mausoleum late this morning and his body dumped off the side of the road where he may have been struck by a car. The medical examiner has informed me that the body couldn’t have been outside very long due to the lack of water and hail damage. We take you now to Joe Sands, live from the Flying Point Cemetery where Mr. Yates was enjoying the afterlife until someone disturbed his rest.”

The picture flickered out to reveal a young man, wearing typical reporter gear, standing in front of a stone mausoleum near the back of the cemetery. The iron door to the tiny structure creaked eerily in the breeze. Nothing could been seen on the inside, which was cloaked in shadows. Joe Sands did his best to describe the scene and summarize the theory that the local police had given him about how the tomb was broken into. He also interviewed one of the groundskeepers who said nothing like this had ever happened before. What kind of monster stole people’s bodies and dumped them on the side of the road?

Castle very much wanted to know the same thing. Javier was shaking again as he absorbed the information from the television. Castle hugged him tightly. “Does he look like a skeleton on TV?”

“N-no.”

“Hm.” Castle let go of Kevin to fish his phone out of his pocket and open his email. He searched for the promised email from Kate who was supposed to send him updates for his electronic murder board. He found it near the top of the list and was glad to see it included a recent picture of Bianca Castova. He opened the attachment and showed it to Javier. 

“Who’s that?”

“You don’t recognize her?”

“She looks a little familiar.”

“That’s Bianca Castova,” said Castle. “Not how you remember her?”

“She’s way too young.” Castle felt a little better about the woman who appeared to be fifty being classified as young by the detective in his mid-thirties. 

“I wonder if you can only see witches’ true faces in real time but not in photographs.” Castle set the phone aside. “Or, did Yates just look like a corpse because he was one?”

“I don’t know.” Javier sounded sick of the conversation so Castle let it drop. 

“We still have groceries out in the car that should be brought inside. Are we feeling brave enough to venture downstairs?”

“No.”

“We’re safe now. That stretch of road is a good fifteen miles from here and the police have Yates’ body in custody. I doubt he’ll be coming to creep us out anytime soon.” Castle sat up fully, dislodging his emotional parasites. Kevin whimpered at the lost contact. “Come on, kiddo. Where’s my brave little homicide detective?”

“Gone.”

Castle made a tsking sound. “He’s not gone, he’s just being silly.” Castle indulged the toddler by picking him up and letting him latch on again with a vise-like grip. Javier clutched his other hand, nearly cutting off the circulation to his fingertips. In much the same way they’d ascended the stairs a couple hours ago, Castle lead the way back downstairs. He couldn’t deny that he glanced towards the large picture windows at the back of the house with baited breath, fully expecting to see a pale, bloated face smashed against the glass. Fortunately, all he could see was the expanse of green grass and the dark, rough waters of the Atlantic beyond. 

The boys refused to let go of him for even a second so Castle patiently towed them along. Everything was calm and quiet in the garage, with the only evidence of the attack being a few thin scratches in the paint of the Mercedes and the barely perceptible dent in the top of the trunk. Castle had to let go of Javier’s hand to undo the rear latch and pull out the first canvas bag of food. He handed it the nervous boy. He retrieved the second bag and held it in his left hand. His arm hurt a little from the combined weight of the four-year-old and the groceries but he bore the strain in silence. Well, not exactly in silence. 

“Ugh, by the time I’m done hauling you two around I’m going to have the upper body strength of the Terminator,” he quipped as he reached for Javier’s hand again. 

“You’re welcome,” rejoined Javier. 

They were almost to the kitchen when Castle’s phone started vibrating to the tune of Detective Beckett’s ringtone. With his hands full, Castle couldn’t get to the device but Javier recognized the tone as well. He lifted the phone from Castle’s pocket with a little too much finesse for the writer’s liking and hit the Talk button. “Yo, Beckett,” he greeted, almost shyly. Castle shook his hand free in order to take the canvas bag from the little boy. Javier, still unwilling to be out of physical contact with the author, wrapped his free hand around Castle’s leg and practically stood on his foot. 

“Can we come back to New York?” asked Javier. “I wanna be with you.”

“What, I’m not good enough?” asked Castle. He tousled the boy’s dark hair and then went back to unpacking the bag. He stood close enough to the counter that he could rest Kevin’s weight on the granite and have both hands free even as the younger detective continued to cling to him. Javier ignored him as he listened to whatever his senior partner was saying.

“I don’t think anywhere is safe,” mumbled Javier. “Might as well be in the city.”

“Javi, put her on speaker,” said Castle. Javier did as requested, projecting Kate’s voice through the kitchen mid-sentence. 

“… bad people down here, sweetheart.” Javier started to sniffle. Kate picked up on the sound. “Are you crying? What happened? Where’s Castle?”

“I’m here, Kate,” said the writer. “As you can probably guess, we’re having another Bad Day.”

“Why? What’s going on up there?”

“We met one of the bad people up here,” explained Castle. “Or rather, one of his or her puppets. Scared the bejeezus out of the kids. Rattled me pretty good, too. I’ve been a human pack mule ever since. They won’t let go.”

“Tell me everything,” ordered Kate. “Javi, sweetie, you’re okay. Don’t cry,” she cooed when the sounds of his mounting distress continued to carry over the line. 

Castle groaned when his second charge decided to share in his partner’s anguish. “Let’s move this somewhere more comfortable.” He picked up Kevin again and stiff-legged it into the living room as gracefully as he could with the six-year-old affixed to his leg. He practically collapsed into the leather armchair. Kevin settled onto his lap and Javier climbed up to squeeze in between the writer and the padded armrest. Castle took the phone from the older boy, though he left it on speakerphone. 

“You still there, Kate?”

“Yes. Will you tell me what happened now?”

“If you promise to get me another #1 Dad mug. I really deserve it after the morning we had.” He launched into the story about the mostly enjoyable trip to the farmer’s market and then the nasty turn their day took when the storm started and they were accosted by the reanimated corpse. “The thing was definitely after the boys.”

“Are you sure you didn’t just fall asleep watching a horror movie?” asked the lead detective in a small voice. Castle could tell that she believed him and wished that she didn’t. 

“See why we should come back to New York?” Javier pleaded again. 

“I don’t know what to think, sweetie.” Castle could hear a slight commotion in the background and someone speaking who sounded like Detective Demming. Kate must be at the precinct. 

“Kate, do you feel like you can trust _any_ of your witchy acquaintances?” 

“Why?”

“This ‘Mini Cop’ spell has other side effects we didn’t know about that I’d really like an explanation for,” said Castle. At Kate’s worried exclamation, he continued. “Physically they’re fine but these witches look different to Javi and Kevin than they do to you and me. Sure, the whacked-out man beating on the car windows was scary but I didn’t understand why the boys flipped out so badly until Javi told me that they were seeing a decaying skeleton man instead of the psychopath I saw. I showed Javier a picture of Bianca and he didn’t even recognize her.”

“What do you mean? Javier and Kevin both met her in the park.”

“Yes, but they know her as a hundred plus year old woman. She didn’t look only fifty to them.”

“Which is probably why they stared so blatantly at her,” said Kate, drawing the same conclusion Castle had.

“Kate, they’re really not handling this well. I’m going to have to use the restroom at some point and I don’t particularly want an audience, but they won’t let go of me.”

“Okay, okay.” The female detective sighed deeply. “Who do you think I should talk to?”

“You’re the one with killer instincts, babe,” said Castle. “There’s probably none of them without some angle of their own to play, but we’re floundering by ourselves.”

“I’ll call Bianca again,” said Kate after a long pause. “I don’t know about giving away your location but she might have some advice.”

“I think it’s only a matter of time,” said Castle in resignation. “They already know we’re in the Hamptons.”

“Alright, I’ll call you back in a few.” Kate ended the call. Castle dropped his head back against the chair and stared blankly at the ceiling far above his head. He was starting to feel the exhaustion creeping into his body from the lack of sleep.

xXx

Detective Beckett set her smart phone on her desk and covered her face with her hands. Couldn’t the bad guys give them one day to find their bearings? Wasn’t it bad enough that she was trying to navigate unfamiliar waters without the backup of her steadfast junior detectives? Did she really need the constant kidnapping attempts, the non-stop dead ends in her murder investigation, and the cryptic half-warnings from witches whose allegiances were tenuous at best?

“You okay, Beckett?” She lifted her head to see Demming standing over her with a fresh cup of coffee. She took it gratefully. It wasn’t nearly as good as the lattes that Castle made her but she was so tired that anything with caffeine sounded heavenly. 

“I just can’t catch a break,” she said with a bitter laugh. “Has anyone come back with something useful yet?”

“Johnson and Kleburg are still interviewing families who have children attending Radiant Pines. So far they haven’t learned anything more than Castle already discovered; Serafina was a bit of a klepto and the parents didn’t like her hanging around their children. Holt has been going through Hanson’s financials and phone records, looking for any anomalies. I’m about to head down to the ME’s office to check on the status of Bellefonte’s autopsy. You should go home and get some sleep. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“I wish that were an option,” said Beckett. “Castle thwarted yet another attempt to snatch up R and E. This time the goon was a reanimated corpse. The boys are pretty upset and Castle’s floundering.”

“Did you say a ‘reanimated corpse’?”

“Yeah.” Beckett pinched the bridge of her nose. “Now there’s a necromancer flitting about the edges of this case.”

“So take tomorrow off and spend the day in the sun,” suggested Demming. “You can run point from there.”

“I am planning to drive up there as soon as possible but I need to speak to Bianca first. Castle mentioned some sort of side effect of the spell that’s starting to manifest. I need someone with knowledge about this kind of stuff to help them deal or they’ll be headed for the psych ward before this is over.”

“You’re going to let a witch get close to your partners again? That sounds like a pretty bad idea.”

“What choice do I have?” she asked. “You’ve known Esposito longer than me. Have you ever seen him show or admit to any kind of weakness?”

“No. He held it together even when his old partner was framed and faked his own death,” said Demming.

“Five minutes ago, he was on the phone, crying and _begging_ me to bring them back into the city. They’re not going to make it if I don’t do something.”

Demming swore under his breath. “So what, you’re going to call up that creepy old lady and arrange another meeting?”

“Not exactly.” Beckett sat up a little straighter. “I can tell she wants something but she’s willing to bide her time and wait for the hand that’s dealt in her favor. However, she is the most knowledgeable witch I’ve met so far. So, I’ll invite her for a drink but I’m also going to request that Randy Bellefonte come. Hopefully one of them is actually on my side and will keep the other in check. Maybe I’ll get lucky and they’re both in my corner.”

“Or you’ll find out they’re both against you,” said Demming. “How about this… you know that I’ve got your back. I’ll go with you, too. At least if they’re both bad guys, it’ll be two on two.”

“I can’t ask that of you,” Beckett said seriously. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I told you when we first met that I like the weird cases. I don’t think they get any weirder than this.”

“I appreciate that, Tom, but I really need you here, keeping this murder investigation going while I’m dealing with the curse. I’ve never felt so out of control of a case before.”

“I don’t like this,” said the robbery detective. “At least promise me you’ll call if you need backup.”

“I promise,” said Beckett. She knew that he only had her safety and well-being in mind so she squashed down her irritation at his persistence. “Let me make the calls and then I’ll join you for the trip to visit Lanie.”

He still looked unhappy with her decision but dropped the matter. “Sure. I’ll let Gates know of your plans.”

“She doesn’t know about the boys.”

“Yeah, I’ve got it covered.” She watched him walk towards the captain’s office. He was a good guy. They probably could have worked if her heart wasn’t so set on Castle. Beckett shoved her musings aside and dialed Bianca’s number. This time, the witch answered after three rings. 

“Katherine,” she said in her rich tenor. “I was very much hoping you’d call, dear. Word just reached the Council about the incident in the Hamptons.”

“I’m hoping you meant it when you said you wanted me to be able to trust you. Are you available to meet again? I need your advice concerning the boys.”

“I thought you’d never ask.” Beckett could clearly hear the eagerness in the woman’s tone. 

“I have to make another stop in connection to the Valduerez murder but I can meet you in an hour and a half. Are you available then?” Bianca replied in the affirmative and gave her an address to a local restaurant where they could converse privately. Beckett next called Randy Bellefonte’s cell phone.

“Hello?” The man on the other side of the line sounded haggard, like he was trying to deal with his mother’s unexpected passing and his brother’s disappearance all while attempting to undo the messes the two had made single-handedly. 

“Mr. Bellefonte, it’s Detective Beckett.”

“Yes, hi. What can I do for you?”

“I need a favor.”

“Bigger than finding a way to reverse my mother’s retrogression spell?”

“Well, more urgent at least,” amended the detective. “Do you know Bianca Castova?”

“I’ve heard of Bianca, one of the white witches on the Council. If her surname is Castova, that’s news to me.”

“Yes, that’s her. Can you tell me anything about her?”

“I don’t know her. I can tell you that my mother and brother despised everyone on the Council for trying to censor their magic, which puts a point in the pro column for me. I’ve also heard from more reputable sources that the Council members are pompous egoists with holier-than-thou attitudes that would put most politicians to shame.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“So, what slightly smaller yet much more urgent favor do you need, Miss Detective?” Beckett briefly explained what she knew about the altercation that morning between her friends and the corpse and her plan to meet Bianca to seek advice about easing the situation. She wanted him to go as well to act as a buffer and also to offer a second opinion. Bellefonte seemed unsure about the whole plan but eventually agreed. Beckett promised to meet him in an hour about a block away from the restaurant selected by Bianca. 

She hung up just as Demming emerged from Gate’s office and gave her a thumbs up. She grabbed her jacket and car keys. “Let’s go talk to Lanie.”

_to be continued…_


	20. Wednesday Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Beckett meets with some witches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Twenty

“You were right, Beckett,” said the ME. “Preliminary tox screens indicate some kind of synthetic material in Nora Bellefonte’s system that could account for the heart attack. She was murdered.”

Beckett wasn’t especially pleased to be right. Now she had two murders to solve on top of her growing mountain of personal problems. “Anything that might lead us to the killer?”

“Well, I haven’t been able to identify the toxin yet,” said Lanie. She glanced between the two detectives. “That means it’s not common and probably not available in a hospital, so you can rule out any of the doctors or nurses who don’t have outside connections to dangerous compounds. There were no DNA markers from anyone besides Bellefonte or her older son. Either he did it or the killer knew what he was doing and didn’t leave any evidence on the body.”

“I’ll ask CSI to check out the hospital room,” said Beckett. “Can you tell me anything at all about the toxin?”

“Sorry, girl. It only showed up as an anomaly on my toughest screen. Once I can isolate it, I’ll send it up to the lab as urgent. Hopefully they’ll have better luck.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“How’re the boys doing?” 

“I’m going back up there tonight,” said Beckett. Lanie easily understood her subtext. 

“What happened now?”

“Another kidnapping attempt. This one did a number on the guys’ mental health. I’m actually going to meet Randy Bellefonte and Bianca Castova before I leave to seek their advice on coping with witch attacks. I’ll also pester Randy for his progress on the spell in hopes of kick starting the process of getting them big again.”

“I don’t know what I think about letting a pair of witches into the loop on their whereabouts but I trust your judgment.”

“I’m glad someone does,” said Beckett sardonically. “Even I’m not sure this is the best idea.” Demming raised an eyebrow at her admittance.

“At least it’s something,” said Lanie. “Are you going to stay up there through the weekend?” Beckett knew that Lanie had been invited to Castle’s Independence Day party as well. Still, the detective didn’t know if she’d trek back to the city before then or not. Beckett shrugged. “Well, either way, keep me posted,” requested Lanie.

“I will.” The two women exchanged a brief hug in honor of their mutual concern for the well-being of their cursed friends. 

“And you, get some sleep. Don’t think I can’t tell you’re only fueled by caffeine right now,” scolded Lanie. Beckett smirked faintly to herself as she slipped out of the lab and started for the stairs that would lead her back to the lobby. She endured one more appeal from Demming to be careful before she pushed through the front doors out into the overcast exterior. 

Her first stop was the loft. She skillfully navigated the busy streets and even managed to find a parking spot on the first try, right across the street from Castle’s building. Beckett hurried into the building, barely acknowledging the doorman. She knew exactly what she was going for and where to find it so it was only minutes later that she was on her way back out with a small duffel bag and a shoebox. 

She slid back into the driver’s seat, this time with the shoebox in her lap. She took a minute to flip open the lid so she could see the pair of service weapons tucked amongst the wallets and badges. Beckett pulled out one of the shiny metal badges and ran her fingers over the NYPD logo. Beckett knew for sure that she was too tired when her tear ducts kicked into action just from holding her junior partner’s shield. Somehow, having the badge in her possession instead of his, where it belonged, made her feel like he was lost to her forever, not just temporarily. 

She took a deep breath to control her emotions. Beckett replaced the badge in the box and closed it. She put it on the floor by her feet and pushed it as far under her seat as it would go. She threw the car into drive and pulled out of her spot with a renewed determination to fix this mess. Before long, she was seeking out a parking spot in one of the more affluent parts of the city. Beckett dialed Bellefonte’s cell phone to let him know she was just minutes away from the restaurant. He informed her that he had already arrived at their designated meeting place. 

Beckett found the handsome man loitering near a traffic pole on the corner. They briefly exchanged greetings. The fertility doctor looked even more stressed in person than he sounded over the phone. She hated to add more to his plate. “Randy, I just spoke with the ME who performed your mother’s autopsy. She found some evidence that the heart attack might not have been a result of the stroke.”

“That she was murdered?” The younger son picked at his silver cufflink. “Did the ME identify the substance used?”

“No,” said Beckett. She was surprised that he seemed to have expected her to tell him that Nora Bellefonte had been killed. Did he know something?

“It’s probably a derivative of a rare species of hemlock,” he replied. “Which would mean that someone high up in the witchy ranks finally passed judgment on her.”

“You sound awfully okay with this ‘judgment,’” said Beckett. She looked critically at the man standing before her. 

Randy shifted his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. He shoved his hands into his pockets. “What my mother did to the detectives was very illegal in both the magical community and the regular world. And it was only her latest in a long list of punishable crimes. I’m disappointed that it had to come to this but she earned her just rewards.”

“Well, in the regular world, only a judge and jury have the right to pass judgment,” said Beckett. “Whoever ordered the poisoning will be dealt with.” Randy dipped his head in acknowledgment of her promise to bring some closure to his ordeal. 

“Any news yet on my brother?”

“I’m hoping you had some for me,” said Beckett. 

“Ah, it’ll be a cold day in Hell before Rayford reaches out to me,” said Randy. “I fear what he’ll attempt when he learns of Mother’s punishment.”

“How do you mean?”

“He’s not exactly right in the head, which you know,” said the younger brother. “While not very talented in his own right, he has some powerful and dangerous friends. It’s hard to guess whom he’ll blame for her death but whomever it is will have plenty of strife coming their way.”

“Every officer in the Tri-State area is looking for him,” said Beckett. “We’ll find him before he does anything.” She could tell that he didn’t have the same confidence that she did but kept his opinion to himself so as to not temper her spirit. 

In order to be on time for Beckett’s appointment with Bianca, the two began walking towards the small restaurant where the white witch had agreed to meet her. Bianca Castova was waiting regally in a corner booth with her paisley wrap hanging from the hook at the end of the seat. She reminded Beckett of an established veteran of the silver screen who still took pride her art and carried herself accordingly. Beckett smiled nervously at her in greeting and was thankful for the presence of Randy behind her. 

“I suppose it was overly optimistic of me to think you’d decided to trust me after all, Katherine,” said the woman as she stood up to formally greet the detective. She looked down her nose at the fertility doctor who graciously dipped his head in respect for her position in the witchy community.

“That’s not a luxury I’m entitled to in my line of work,” replied Beckett. 

Bianca stared at Randy for a long minute. He bore the scrutiny patiently, holding her gaze with confidence. Beckett didn’t realize she was holding her breath until Bianca spoke and Beckett finally exhaled. “I’m glad to see that you have not yet followed your family down their dark path, Randall.” She gave Beckett a meaningful look before refocusing on the younger witch. 

“I’d given up magic completely until my mother’s regrettable actions dragged me back in,” he said.

“Hmph.” Bianca was too refined to roll her eyes, though her mood was easily readable in her expression. The three of them took their seats, with Bianca alone on her side, facing the younger two. Beckett found it somewhat amusing to watch the older woman debate with herself over whether she wanted to continue the conversation with Randy or not. It was clear that she was a rabid gossip and simply wanted to know everything about everyone. It was probably part of the reason why she was so persistent in securing a niche in Beckett’s life. 

Apparently her insatiable curiosity won out. “You’re a doctor, then?” Randy looked at her with a mixture of resignation and trepidation. Still, he answered in the affirmative. Beckett smirked to herself as Bianca launched into an interrogation that would put the Spanish Inquisition to shame. Beckett’s interest in the animated questioning and the hesitant responses helped her keep alert as her fatigue started to wear on her. 

“Well,” said Randy after a good while, steering the conversation away from his personal life and back to the reason for their meeting. “There are some things we should tell you about magic and spellwork. It sounds like your friends had a rather unfortunate encounter this morning with a necromancer.” He looked encouragingly at Beckett. 

“Why did the body look different to Castle than the boys?” asked the detective. 

Bianca eagerly took over the lesson. “Those who are touched by magic can see it for what it truly is, instead of the illusion that the rest of the world sees.”

“You’re saying that what _Castle_ saw wasn’t real?” Beckett frowned at the thought. 

“Not exactly,” said Bianca. She seemed to struggle for how to explain herself. 

“People exposed to magic can see magical spirits and the ravages they leave on mortal souls,” said Randy. “Witches are magical spirits. When your detectives saw the reanimated body, they could also see the dark spirit possessing it. The effects of magic can be jarring to see and without knowing how to see beyond it, the body would have looked like the manifestation of black magic.”

“What exactly does black magic look like?” asked Beckett. She imagined that if Castle was there, his fingers would be itching for his notepad and a pen so he could write all of this down. 

“It has many faces,” said Randy. “As does pure magic. What did they see?”

“Castle said Javier described it like a skull with bits of flesh hanging off it,” replied Beckett. “Very B-horrorish. He also mentioned that when shown a photograph of you, Bianca, he didn’t recognize you.”

Bianca delicately touched her perfectly coiffed blonde and silver hair. “What did he see when he looked at me?”

“A very old lady,” said Beckett.

“That’s right,” said Bianca. “I’m over one hundred and forty years old. When you look at me, you see only my physical body. Your boys can see my spirit, as well.”

“Why can’t Castle and I see magical spirits?” asked Beckett. 

“You have to be the direct recipient of a spell,” said Bianca. “It doesn’t work by periphery.” 

“Is there a way to turn it off?”

“It is better if you don’t remove the ability completely,” said Bianca. “Being able to distinguish friend from foe will be to their advantage.” She folded her hands together. “It would be easier to assist your friends if I were to engage them in person.”

Beckett recognized the not-so-subtle-request easily. She tucked her hair behind her ear as she tried to think of the best way to deny the witch’s request. She and Castle didn’t want any witches near the boys right now. Bianca’s expression darkened as Beckett delayed her response. 

“Bianca, they’re not ready, yet. Leave her alone.” 

Beckett sent her ally a grateful look. Randy nodded in response though his attention remained focused on the older witch. 

“Let me show you something to help you understand your boys,” said the white witch. Her displeasure at being thwarted from doing what she thought was best showed clearly in her visage. Before anyone could react, Bianca touched Beckett’s forehead with the tips of her index and middle fingers. The contact lasted only seconds before Randy was pushing the older witch’s hand away. 

“Detective Beckett, are you okay?” The female homicide detective was breathing rapidly as the grotesque images that Bianca had given her flashed repeatedly before her mind’s eye. It was like being in the middle of a nightmare, only she knew she was awake. 

“That is likely what your boys saw this morning when the necromancer attacked them,” said Bianca. “Tell me you don’t want me to give the little ones the ability to not see that again.”

“Bianca, please.” Randy clasped the older witch’s hand tightly in his own. “It doesn’t have to happen all at once.” He looked at her beseechingly until Bianca relented and sat back in her seat with a huff. Beckett could feel both of the witches’ gazes on her as she struggled to push away the pictures of rotted skeletons with black holes for eyes. 

“Detective Beckett?” Randy gently touched her forearm.

“I’m okay,” said Beckett. She managed to calm down pretty quickly after the shock of the mental download wore off. “It’s fine.” She took one last shaky breath and turned to look at the doctor squarely in the face. “How do I help my partners not see that again?”

“If you’re going to persist in being opposed to letting me directly tend to the children, I suppose I could give you a potion that would scale back the ability.” Bianca clearly did not like the idea. Beckett agreed wholeheartedly. It would take a lot of convincing to get her to willingly give her partners any magically derived concoctions.

“Bianca…” Randy protested. She gestured dismissively at him. He sat back in his chair in annoyance. 

“Is there anything else I can do to help them?” 

“Yes. It takes practice,” said Randy. “And it’s a skill that can be learned without the assistance of magic.”

“Hush,” scolded Bianca. “If the children saw the result of a necromancer’s work then it’s no wonder they’re upset. Some little thought exercise, directed by one who doesn’t even understand what she’s up against, isn’t going to overcome that trauma.”

“Let me try. What do I need to do?” Beckett looked intently at Randy, ignoring Bianca’s appalled expression. 

“I’ll write something out for you,” promised Randy. He pulled out the worn leather journal that contained his mother’s various spells and notes. He tore one of the blank pages from the back of the journal and set to work outlining the mental exercise with the pen that Beckett loaned him. As he wrote, Beckett watched Bianca stare curiously at the journal. The seemingly unflappable woman’s composure slipped and her fingers twitched as she visibly restrained herself from demanding to see what was written on the tattered pages.

Before Randy could hand the completed guide to Beckett, Bianca snatched it up. “Let me see.” She pulled a pair of small reading glasses out of her purse and balanced them at the end of her nose while she scanned his surprisingly decipherable handwriting. In Beckett’s experience, doctors didn’t write with the most legible script. “Hmph.” Bianca handed the paper to Beckett. “When this doesn’t work… and it won’t… bring the children to me. I will show you once more that I only intend to help you.”

“Thank you, Bianca. Randy. I plan to drive up there this afternoon so I should go.” Beckett hastily slid out of the booth and patted her pocket to make sure that she still possessed her car keys. Since she hadn’t ordered anything she declined to leave any money with her companions. Bianca’s ire at the way Beckett was trying to protect her partners made the detective anxious and she couldn’t leave the table quickly enough. 

xXx

After the homicide detective beat her hasty retreat, two witches remained at the table in an uncomfortable silence. Bianca inspected her manicure, her mouth set in a frown. Randy studied her profile as covertly as he could, though she could probably sense his regard anyway. 

“I know you’re trying to help…” he offered at length. He folded his hands together on the tabletop.

“They let the children suffer needlessly,” snapped the white witch. 

“That’s _their_ choice.” Bianca’s expression only darkened further. “You’re especially fond of kids, I can tell,” Randy continued. “Even more so than typical for a white witch. They’re not children, though. I know you’ve met them in person before. Surely you could sense that.”

“There is more to it than just adults trapped in the bodies of children,” said Bianca. She looked briefly at the younger man. “There is a childlike quality about them. The way Katherine described their behavior after the attack is not something an adult police officer would have done under different circumstances.”

“It’s possible that was intentional,” said Randy. “Some of the ingredients in the spell don’t make sense to me. They don’t seem necessary for the physical alteration because they’re primarily used to alter one’s mental state.”

“Your mother intended for them to still be capable of adult functions while becoming easily manipulated in order to control them,” said Bianca. 

“Possibly… probably.” Randy sighed. “I’ve never seen a spell so complicated. I am having difficulty unraveling it. How do I explain that to Detective Beckett?”

“It is not your responsibility to undo the work of another witch,” said Bianca. She looked at him sternly. “It would be wiser of you to leave well enough alone.”

“I don’t see the Council falling over themselves to fix this,” said Randy bitterly. “If I am the only one who can and will help them right the injustice done by my mother, so be it.”

“The Council may not be ‘falling over themselves,’ but I am here, am I not?”

“I don’t get the impression that you’re here on the behest of the Council or for the benefit of Detective Beckett and her friends.” He pulled his hands apart so he could drum his fingers nervously against the polished wood of the table. “You have a personal agenda, that much is obvious.”

“My reasons are my own and I will not be questioned by the likes of you,” said Bianca. “I do not wish to further harm them. However, what is done is done and I do not want to miss an opportunity to bolster the Council’s influence.”

“So you’re looking to secure a debt.” Randy chuckled sardonically. “What will it cost them to be free of this cursed spell if the Council ‘helps’?”

“You confuse me with your black-hearted mother,” snapped Bianca. “I broker in relationships, boy. I do not need to coerce or intimidate people into doing favors for me because I always give more than I take. The Council strives to operate within both the limitations of our own laws and those of the general population. Sometimes, those without magic unjustly accuse us because they do not understand our ways. It would benefit all of us if a few of the ‘NYPD’s finest’ were sympathetic to our causes as well as their own.”

“So why don’t you turn them back into adults?”

“I do not know _how_.” Bianca scowled at the wall before schooling her features into a calmer expression and turning to look at Randy again. “This was done to them using heavy black magic and I am unaware of a spell that can push one forward through time without again using tainted magic.”

Randy pondered her statement for a minute before responding. “I was looking for something more along the lines of an extraction spell. If I can withdraw the magic of the original spell, it won’t be necessary to cast a counter-spell.”

“I won’t discourage you from continuing down that path,” said Bianca, “But I do not expect you to have any success. Maybe if we had known before the actual retrogression took place, it could have worked, but now I think it’s too late.”

“So you want to just tell them that, oh, sorry, there’s no way to reverse this and two grown men with promising careers as detectives should just accept the fact that they have to live out the rest of their lives in the bodies of little kids?”

“Right now what we’re going to do is set up some kind of protection to prevent anyone else from making a go at them,” said Bianca. “I know of very few witches powerful enough to perform necromancy and none of them reside in the state of New York.” She frowned at her own implication that the curse was drawing the attention of characters from way outside of their area of influence. 

“Won’t that require knowing where they are? The Hamptons aren’t as large as New York City but it’d still be difficult to find one person’s house.” Randy ran his hand through his hair. 

Bianca clasped her hands together and sat up a little straighter. “Let me worry about that.”

“You already know where they are, don’t you?” Randy sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Which one of them did you cast the tracking spell on?”

“The littler one, when I healed his injuries from Hanson’s assail.” She looked completely unrepentant for having cast the spell without the knowledge or permission of Detective Beckett. Randy was seeing for himself what his magical colleagues meant about the Council members thinking themselves infallible. “Now, I have an acquaintance in the area who could set up wards around the house. It should be easy enough to convince Katherine to keep the children on the property.”

“They’ll be imprisoned in their own home.”

“It’s better than being imprisoned elsewhere. I will request that it be done after this meeting.” Bianca flexed her fingers and checked the time on her delicate silver wristwatch. “I would like to see your mother’s grimoire. Perhaps I can make some sense out of the ingredients she used.”

“I’ll copy the spell,” said Randy. He slid the journal off the table and into his lap so it would be out of sight. 

Bianca looked at him pointedly. “You don’t trust me.”

“No,” he said honestly. “Not yet. But I do respect you.”

“Hmph.”

“I’ll send you a copy of the spell, I promise.” On that note, the two witches parted company. Randy took a deep breath and once more wondered what he had done to deserve his family. His life without magic was so much less trying. 

xXx

Beckett yawned widely as she pulled up in front of Castle’s mansion. She barely noticed the sleek blue sedan also parked in the drive. She eyed it suspiciously when its presence finally registered in her fuzzy mind. She shook her head and slid out of the car with the shoebox tucked under her arm. Beckett rang the doorbell and listened closely for movement on the inside. She’d texted Castle when she was about ten minutes out to alert him of her imminent arrival but he hadn’t responded yet. 

A minute later the tousled looking writer pulled open the door. Her heart beat a little harder, like it always did when she saw him after an extended separation. “I’m here,” she stated.

“I see that.” He smiled warmly at her and leaned down for a quick smooch. He pulled away and motioned for her to proceed him into the house. 

Beckett glanced up and down the halls briefly once she was inside. “Where are the boys?”

“Finishing off a nap,” said Castle. “They finally both went down about forty-five minutes ago. You’ll have to wait to talk to them; I’m not waking them up.”

“Still stuck to you like glue?” asked Beckett with a teasing grin. 

“If either of them ever becomes a superhero, his name will definitely be Barnacle Boy.” Castle let out a weary sigh. “Oh, by the way, Martha arrived earlier this afternoon and immediately invited some of her friends over. They’re out back by the pool.” The detective realized that the unfamiliar car must belong to the actress’ acquaintances. “What have you got there?” He motioned towards the shoebox. 

“Protection,” replied Beckett. She lifted the lid briefly so Castle could see the contents. 

“Right.” He didn’t look overly thrilled with the presence of the two 9mm weapons in his home. He took the box from her and shoved it onto the top shelf of his entryway closet. He made a mental note to move the contents to a more secure location as soon as possible. “Shall we?”

Beckett slipped her hand into Castle’s warm one and together they headed for the back of the house. She immersed herself in his familiar presence and felt a little of her strength return. They stepped back into the warm July air a minute later. Martha waved to Beckett in greeting and motioned for the two to join the group standing at the edge of the pool. Beckett graciously shook hands with the two sun-kissed women dressed in overpriced dresses. 

“Richard, you must tell Shirley and Tina the story about the last time you invited Katherine to the house,” said Martha. She rested her hand on her son’s arm. “Can you believe it?” she asked her friends with wide eyes. “A man, riddled with gunshot wounds, stumbled into the yard and died in this very pool.” The two socialites made appropriately disgusted faces. 

“Mother, let me tell the story,” said Castle. The writer once again proved why he was paid so handsomely to ply his trade as he recounted the amusing and slightly embellished tale of his and Beckett’s murder-solving prowess during their first trip to the Hamptons. Beckett glanced at the slightly murky waters of the pool which needed a good cleaning after the recent storm. Castle had his back to the pool, facing the house, with his audience standing in a semicircle around him. He was in the middle of describing the confrontation with the suspicious ex-girlfriend at the Sand Bar when he paused briefly to nudge Beckett. None of the others seemed to notice the interruption. Beckett discretely turned to look at the wall of windows that overlooked the pool. 

Her partners, looking a little rumpled from their mid-afternoon siesta, stood framed in the window, watching the full size adults guardedly. She motioned for them to come outside. Javier slowly turned the knob on the screened door and pushed it open silently. Both miniaturized detectives kept a wary eye on the strangers as they hurried to their partner. She was grateful that they didn’t seem quite as traumatized as Castle described them being before the nap. 

Beckett moved away from the story-telling group to sit on one of the damp lounge chairs closer to the door. “Hey, guys,” she greeted in a low voice. She wrapped an arm around each of them as they moved in for a hug. She indulged herself for a few seconds, holding them close, before gently pushing them back so she could see their faces. “How are you?”

“I thought you weren’t coming back until Saturday,” said Javier, matching her whisper. 

“Change of plans. You guys need me more than the 12th.”

“What about the murder?”

“It’ll still be there,” replied Beckett. “Besides, Demming is keeping the investigation on track.” The older women had finally registered the presence of two new people and turned to watch the interaction between the three homicide detectives. Beckett appreciated that they kept their distance. She didn’t want to overwhelm her boys, especially with the pair of new people. “This is cute,” she said, returning her focus to her partners. She smoothed down some of the wrinkles in Kevin’s navy blue NYPD shirt. “I didn’t even know they made these.” He shrugged, clearly not any more informed than she was. 

Beckett turned to Javier. Her eyes narrowed as she took in his mustard colored tee. “Castle.” Castle swallowed thickly as he took a step closer. “What’s this?” Beckett demanded, tugging on the front of Javier’s shirt. She glared at her boyfriend. 

Castle threw his hands up defensively. “Not my fault. I didn’t buy it and he dressed himself this morning.”

“So?” She stood up to her full height so she could properly cow the writer. Castle squirmed uncomfortably. 

“So… like I said, not my fault.” Beckett gave him a look promising that they would discuss in privacy how she was not okay with a six-year-old sporting attire that advertised adult beverages. She leaned back down so she could pick up her younger partner. While she was on eye-level with Javier, she ordered him to go change. 

“Beckett…”

“Now.” She settled Kevin on her hip as she gave Castle another pointed look. 

“Come on, kiddo,” said the writer. He motioned for Javier to go back inside. “It’s best not to argue with Mommy.” 

Beckett rolled her eyes at the dig. She nearly dropped Kevin when he suddenly reached for the retreating author. “Wait!”

Castle turned back and grinned smugly when he took in the sight of Beckett trying to balance the toddler who clearly wanted him. He backtracked until he could clasp the outstretched hands in his own. He leaned in to brush his nose against the toddler’s like an Eskimo kiss. “No, I don’t want to take you, too. I’m tired of carrying you around.”

Kevin made the most pitiful expression Beckett had ever seen on him, big or small. It didn’t take long for Castle to groan theatrically and take him from Beckett. Kevin secured a hold around the writer’s neck to prevent him from changing his mind. “I am never, ever going to let you live this down,” the writer promised as he turned to resume his trek into the house. He turned to his guests just before crossing the threshold. “Excuse us. We’ll be back shortly.”

Beckett’s disappointment at her junior detective wanting to go with Castle instead of staying with her must have been obvious to the women observing the exchange. Martha walked over to stand next to her. “I don’t think it’s you,” she said. “It’s us. They’ve been glued to Richard since we arrived and have avoided any interaction with my friends. It doesn’t surprise me that Kevin would jump on the chance put some distance between us.”

Her words made sense. She felt a little better and gave Martha a wan smile in thanks. Since Castle was busy helping to fix Javier’s wardrobe problem, she found herself standing there awkwardly with nothing to do. Fortunately, Martha took over the role of hostess and invited the others inside for drinks. She nudged Beckett towards the living room with an order to relax a little bit. By the time they were all settled into seats around the living room with drinks in hand, Castle returned with the boys. He unceremoniously dumped Kevin into Beckett’s lap, nearly upsetting her hold on her iced tea. The writer then motioned towards Javier. “Tada! No more beer advertisement.”

The Hispanic detective glowered at Castle when the eyes of everyone in the room focused on him. He self-consciously climbed onto the couch and settled in next to his fellow police officers and looked uneasily at the older women grinning indulgently at him. Beckett smiled approvingly at his NYU long-sleeve tee. 

Castle took a seat at the opposite end of the couch from Beckett and offered to hold her drink while Kevin got situated on top of her and Javier crowded against her side. Once the toddler finally stopped moving, Beckett wrapped him up in a loose hug, the last of her lingering hurt fading away. She smiled gratefully at Castle when he returned her drink to her. 

“Richard,” spoke up Martha. “I stopped by the store on the way up here and picked up some supplies for the party. Can you think of anything specific you might need for the boys? Shirley, Tina, and I are headed to the Sand Bar in a few minutes and I can stop again on my way back.” 

“I think we’re good, Mother. Did you buy any of the cream puffs that Alexis is so fond of?”

“Yes, dear.” Martha rolled her eyes. “Call me if you think of anything.”

“I will.”

Martha stood up and the two women followed suit. She ushered her friends out the door, claiming that the atmosphere of the popular watering hole would surely be more suited to their tastes than that of her son’s second home. The beautiful redhead gave Beckett a knowing look and the detective was once again impressed by Martha’s ability to read people and situations. It’s clear that’s where Castle got it from. She appreciated that they would have a few hours of privacy to deal with the latest fallout related to the curse. 

“Be safe. If you get arrested again, please don’t call me,” said Castle. Beckett tracked Martha’s complaints about her son’s manners until they were cut off by the closing of the front door. 

Castle immediately shifted to be closer to his girlfriend, nearly squashing Javier between them. The Hispanic detective protested when the writer leaned over him to engage Beckett in a welcoming kiss. He pushed on Castle’s wide chest until the man grudgingly sat back. Castle flicked Javier’s ear in annoyance at the interruption. Still, he settled against the back of the couch and asked about her meeting with the witches.

Beckett outlined the meeting, sticking strictly to the facts. She was too tired to try to dissect her interpretations of the conversation at the moment. When she described the part where Bianca had pushed images of a skeletal looking being into her mind and her reaction to it, Castle immediately expressed his worry.

“It’s fine, Castle. It just took me by surprise and I didn’t react as well as I could have.”

“It’s not fine!” Castle gripped her arm where it wrapped around Kevin. “Did she hurt you? Is your head all right?”

“I promise, I’m okay,” said Beckett. She took a deep breath. “All she did was show me what the attack this morning may have looked like from the boys’ point of view.” 

“I don’t ever want to see another witch again.” Javier hugged himself loosely. 

Beckett turned to look down at her older partner. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that, sweetheart.” She let go of Kevin with one arm so she could brush her hand over the top of Javier’s head. 

“So Bianca showed you a creepy skeleton head?” asked Castle. 

“Yes. Rick, if I’d seen that, I probably would have been glued to you for the next few hours as well,” she said. 

“See, this is why we should go back to New York,” said Javier.

“It still might be safer here,” argued Beckett. She slid her hand down his arm to squeeze his hand. “Randy did give me a list of thought exercises that could help you distinguish between the magical and physical aspects of spiritual people. When you’re feeling up to it, we can try some of them.” Javier just shrugged dejectedly.

“Is this all going to go away when we’re big again?” asked Kevin.

“I don’t know, baby boy, but it’s going to be okay,” said Beckett. She pressed her lips to the top of Kevin’s head. “We’ll make it work, whatever it is.”

“In New York?” asked Javier. 

“Why do you want to go back to New York so badly?” asked Castle. “Are you missing your secret girlfriend that much?”

“I don’t have a secret girlfriend, jack-” Javier snapped his mouth shut mid-word. “Idiot.”

“Kate, do you hear the way he talks to me?” pouted Castle. 

“Bad Javi,” said Beckett with no conviction. Javier stuck his tongue out at the writer.

“Really mature, brat.”

“You’re just jealous because I’m allowed to be immature.”

“No, you’re not,” said Beckett. She tweaked his nose. A wide yawn from her boyfriend drew Beckett’s attention upwards. “Castle, you look exhausted. Are you doing okay?”

“I’m fine, thanks,” he replied. “A little short on sleep and then being used as a human transporter all morning didn’t help.” He winked at Javier, who did not appreciate being teased about his reaction to the incident with the reanimated corpse.

“Maybe if you two didn’t stay up all night doing the nasty, you’d be more caught up on sleep.”

“Javier!” Beckett hoped her face wasn’t as red as it felt. She pinched Kevin when he chuckled at his partner’s quip. “No encouraging him.”

Castle looked less than abashed and in fact rather smug when he said, “Kids,” and shrugged. Beckett sighed in defeat. Her stomach rumbled then, giving away her hunger. Castle noticed the sound and announced that it was time to start dinner. He pushed himself off the couch and offered a hand to Beckett once she had shifted Kevin off of her lap. Together they started for the kitchen, followed closely by the two mini-detectives.

_to be continued…_


	21. Wednesday Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the group enjoys some family time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Twenty-One

“Here’s the deal,” said Castle as he grabbed Kevin under the arms and swung the toddler through the air. The boy let out a startled gasp at the unexpected change in elevation. The author plopped the miniaturized detective in one of the barstools at the peninsula of the kitchen. “You two stay out of the way and you can stay in the kitchen.” He opened his laptop and set it in front of the blond. “Hack away, Mr. Jackman. Don’t bother looking for any unfinished manuscripts - I moved them to my portable, and very hidden, hard drive.”

“How long do you think it will take us to find that?” Javier asked his partner. 

“Less than a day,” replied Kevin. He typed in Castle’s password, which the writer still hadn’t bothered to change. “It’s like you want us to be able to access your computer.”

“You’re not going to find it,” said Castle. He swatted at Javier’s shoulder once the detective had climbed onto the chair next to his partner’s. “It’s not in this house.”

“Sure.” Javier gave him a look that clearly expressed his disbelief in Castle’s statement. 

“Oh, I’m supposed to tell you two that Lanie says hi,” said Kate. She set a large pot in the sink and turned on the faucet to let it fill with water. “Apparently you did something right in that relationship, because she claims the sex was good enough for her to keep your secrets.” She dipped her fingers in the pot and flicked the water at Javier. 

“Why you hatin’?” he asked. “Of course it was good.” He grinned cheekily at her. 

“Okay, I’m going to have to put sex talk in the same category as foul language,” said Castle. 

“What category is that?” asked Kate. 

“Things I don’t want to hear out of the mouth of a six-year-old.”

“I guess that means I’ll have to do the talking for the both of us,” said Kevin. He clicked on the laptop and turned the screen slightly so Javier could see better. 

“Nice, bro.” Javier tilted his head slightly to the side. “Hey Beckett, can you get into _that_ position?” 

“What are you doing?” demanded Castle. He put down his mixing bowl and wiped his hands on a dishrag before stalking over to the bar. 

“Returning the favor for all the times you’ve looked at porn on my work computer,” said Kevin.

“All right, first of all, no you’re not allowed to talk dirty either, and second, absolutely no inappropriate websites.” Castle pulled the screen of the laptop down so the computer was perfectly flat. The website displayed on the screen was ESPN’s homepage. “Very funny, brat. Behave.”

Kevin returned the screen to its upright position. “Yes, Dad,” he said in a sing-song voice.

“I am so looking forward to all the grief I’m going to give you when you’re big again,” promised Castle. He pouted at Kate, who was leaning against the counter and failing to hide her chuckles behind her hand. “You’re all against me.”

“Sorry, Castle, you’re just so cute when you’re being responsible,” said Kate. She leaned up to give him a quick kiss. Her partners made gagging sounds, to which she responded by flipping them off. 

“And you wonder where we learn such bad behavior,” commented Kevin. He rested his chin in one hand while he dragged his fingers of the other over the touch pad to navigate around whatever website he’d settled on. Javier leaned over to see the screen as well. Castle watched them out of the corner of his eye as he returned to preparing the rest of the salad while Kate cooked the noodles. He told himself that he was just making sure neither of the younger males fell off his stool and cracked his head open.

“This is kind of fun,” said Kate in a low voice when she had finished draining her cooked pasta and held the bowl out for Castle to add his mix. 

“Making pasta salad?”

“Playing house,” she corrected. She glanced over her shoulder to where her partners were animatedly discussing baseball and arguing over what the stats they’d found actually meant. “You really do make a good father.”

“I learned from the best… well, the best mother that is. Actually no, I guess I learned from the best nanny.” He grinned playfully at her. 

“Though you hide it so well under your twelve-year-old disguise,” chided Kate. 

“Well, if we’re playing the compliment game, then I think you’d make a very good mother.”

“Me, a mother?” Kate scoffed. “I barely have time to take care of myself, let alone a very needy little person.”

“What do you think you’re doing with them?” Castle gestured towards the bar. “Remember Agent Shaw? She makes it work.”

“True.” Kate chewed on the inside of her cheek as she thought for a minute. “I’d like to have kids of my own some day,” she decided. 

Castle hoped she’d want to have kids with him some day and then panicked at the idea of raising another Little Castle. What if fate decided to make up for Alexis’ lack of unruliness by giving him a terror as a second child? He mentally shuddered at the idea.

xXx

Two hours later, after a rather quiet dinner, Beckett curled up in one of the overstuffed armchairs before the huge rear windows. She sat sideways in the chair with her knees bent over one arm and her back resting against the other. Though it was still early in the evening, she found herself struggling to stay awake. Usually a sleepless night didn’t have her feeling quite so lethargic. She indulged herself anyway, watching the moon slowly grow brighter over the distant waves as the sun set behind the house.

Castle and Javier sat kitty-corner from each other on the floor with a pile of cards spread out before them on the coffee table. She wasn’t sure exactly who was teaching whom the rules of a new game, but their interaction became pretty animated occasionally when accusations of cheating starting flying around. Kevin had started off with them but his interest had waned quickly. She could tell that the morning’s encounter still had her two junior detectives on edge, though they did a commendable job hiding it. If she and Castle didn’t know them so well, they might not have noticed at all. 

As if to make up for his earlier slight by the pool, Kevin pulled himself up into the chair with Beckett and curled up between her and the backrest. She wrapped one arm around him and absently ran her fingers through his soft hair. “You feeling sleepy, too, baby boy?”

“Mmm.” He gave her a non-committal shrug. “Just ready to be done with this nightmare.”

“We’ll work it out,” replied Beckett. In the back of her mind, she questioned her own response. What would they work out? Did she mean finding a way to get Kevin and Javier back to full size or figuring out how to take care of them if they remained small? Beckett thought back to her conversation with Castle while they prepared the evening meal. Sure, work was stressful without the help of her partners but she was starting to get used to having them around as small children. She doubted that she’d ever cuddle like this with the Irishman once he was an adult again. His slight weight against her side was comforting and right then, she wasn’t in a hurry to end the moment. 

From the coffee table, Beckett heard Castle ask Javier once more about his secret girlfriend. She smirked as Javier exploded into a tirade about how sick he was of Castle and Beckett prying into his personal life and blowing things out of proportion. He did his best to keep his voice hushed, conscious of Martha who had returned a short while ago and was loitering elsewhere in the house. Beckett knew Javier would be twice insulted if he found out that she found his ire amusing. 

Castle backpedaled defensively. “If it’s not a big deal, why won’t you tell us who it is?”

“It’s none of your business,” snapped Javier. 

“You and Kevin put a lot of effort into finding out whom Kate was dating when we first started out,” argued Castle. 

“Yeah, well, you two danced around each other for four years and were extremely annoying about it,” complained Javier. “I don’t bring my dirty laundry to work to air out in public.”

“Dirty how…?” Castle leaned forward curiously. 

“Just leave me the f-… leave me alone,” Javier insisted. “There is no secret girl and all you’re doing is pissing me off.”

“That’s what Lanie told us when we were asking about your mysterious boyfriend,” whispered Kevin. 

“Good for her,” replied Beckett in an equally quiet voice. Her mind started to drift as Castle wisely changed the subject and Javier’s ruffled feathers slowly settled. The two males returned to their card game, though the looks they shot each other were nothing short of distrustful. Actually, Javier had the monopoly on suspicious glares. Castle stuck mainly to surreptitious and curious. 

Beckett still couldn’t think of anyone at the 12th who could not only draw Javier’s attention from Lanie but cause the ME to back off without a fight. Lanie was beautiful and smart and not easily intimidated. In fact, the ME seemed fond of Javier’s mystery crush as well, going so far as to call her a “cute blonde.”

Beckett’s arms rested in a loose circle around her younger partner. She lifted one and returned to stroking his soft hair. She liked how the orange glow of the ambient light gave a reddish hue to the pale locks…

The epiphany hit her like a Mack truck. It made perfect sense, now that she knew whom Lanie had been thinking about when she let slip that Javier had a new love interest. She wanted to laud her triumph over Castle for figuring it out first, proving once and for all that she was a better detective than he was a reader of people. Beckett gripped Kevin’s shoulders so she could push him into a seated position and see his face. “Baby, do _you_ know who Javier’s secret crush is?” 

He made a disgruntled face. “Castle already gave me the third degree on this. Javi hasn’t told me but at least I can respect his privacy.”

“You’re the biggest busy-body of us all,” chided Beckett. She pinched his little cheek like an annoying older relative. 

“Nuh-uh,” he denied. He pushed her hand away from his face. “That’s definitely Castle.”

“Sure.” Beckett grinned widely at him. Kevin looked resigned that his partner would continue to suffer from prying friends, no matter what either of the junior detectives said to dissuade them. “But I promise to not ask him anymore.”

“Why?” Now it was Kevin’s turn to look suspicious of his partner’s motive. 

“Because I figured it out,” she gloated. 

“Then who is it?” He looked genuinely interested in her answer. Since he was like an open book to his close friends, she believed that he truly didn’t know.

“Nope. You told me you were respecting Javi’s privacy.”

“You’re so mean.” Kevin settled in again with his head against her shoulder to pout. Beckett wrapped him in a tight hug and kissed the top of his head. She could understand Javier’s desire for nondisclosure at this time so she resolved to not divulge his secret without his consent. Though, she would still brag to Castle about her victory. She hoped that Javier would tell his crush sooner than later so they could start living happily ever after. 

At the coffee table, Javier lost his patience with Castle’s appraising glances. “I’m not going to tell you anything,” he stated firmly. “It doesn’t matter anyway. Unless this fucked-up shit is resolved, nothing will come of it.” The Hispanic detective gestured to his six-year-old body. 

Beckett’s flicker of desire to let things stay as they were for a while yet was immediately extinguished at her partner’s defeated tone. It was easy for her to adjust to the change - she hadn’t lost her entire life and all her immediate dreams in the space of single afternoon. She refused to be selfish and renewed her vow to undo this curse as soon as possible. That thought followed her into a restless slumber as she nodded off in the overstuffed armchair. 

When she awoke next, she was still curled up in the armchair and unsure of how much time had passed. The room was dark, save for a single lamp near the archway that opened to the foyer. One of the fleece throws was draped over her and the solid weight across her chest. Beckett realized quickly that the muted sounds of distress and slight shivering coming from her partner were what had drawn her out of sleep. “Kev?” she asked. In the stillness of the night, her soft voice sounded like a canon exploding. Nonetheless, he didn’t respond.

Beckett jostled him until he awoke with a start. She could see little more than shadows across his face but his panic was obvious. “Hey, it’s okay,” she soothed. “Just a dream. Calm down, baby boy.”

His breathing gradually became less labored and he relaxed marginally. “Sorry,” he mumbled eventually. 

“Don’t be,” Beckett said. She cupped his face with both hands and pulled him down so she could kiss his forehead. From there, she guided him to curl up against her again, safe in her arms. He wrapped his arms around her as well. She could still feel his heart’s accelerated beating, though that eventually slowed as well. “What were you dreaming about?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“Obviously,” she said sarcastically. “You know you can’t lie to me, so just tell me.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Kevin muttered. 

“Was it about the incident this morning? I only saw the images that Bianca showed me for a minute but I know it’s going to give me nightmares.”

“It’s just… everything.”

“What’s something specific?” Kevin was saved from answering by the entrance of a tall, shadowed figure. Beckett held her breath until the newcomer stepped into the spread of light from the small lamp. Beckett offered Castle a soft smile as he crossed the room towards her chair. 

“You’re awake,” the writer said obviously. 

“Were you going to leave me down here all night?” asked Beckett. Already she was afraid to shift too much and draw out the sting that had surely settled into her muscles by now. 

“You were just too adorable to disturb. But that’s why I’m here now, to rescue you from a regretful night in a chair.” Castle exchanged a brief kiss with her. As he pulled back, his gaze dropped to the toddler. “It’s well past your bedtime, kiddo.”

“I don’t have a bedtime,” argued Kevin. He lifted his head off of Beckett’s shoulder to give the writer a dark look. 

“My house, my rules,” teased Castle. He stood up and held his hands out towards the Irishman. Kevin hunkered down and tightened his grip on Beckett. The lead detective chuckled as Castle complained, “So fickle the fealty of the young.” Beckett decided to help him out by finally stretching as much as she could, which led her to groan when her back ached and a dull bolt of pain shot through her neck. Kevin sat up with a guilty frown to give her room to move. The new position left him vulnerable to Castle and the author plucked him off the chair and set him on the ground beside it. Beckett grasped Castle’s outstretched hand and used it to leverage herself out the chair. Once standing, she stretched fully. A few joints popped loudly. 

“Did Martha already retire?”

“Yes,” answered Castle. He messily folded the throw and tossed it onto the chair. 

“Where’s Javi?”

“I just finished putting him to bed. After you fell asleep he wanted to watch a movie so we relocated to the theater. I figured I’d wake you up when it was over.” Castle looked down at Kevin. “You walking or you want a ride?”

Kevin vacillated for a few seconds and studied the fibers of the rug diligently. He finally nodded dejectedly and stepped towards the writer. Castle lifted him up to bear on his hip and then offered a hand to Beckett. She tangled her fingers with his. They walked towards the stairs closely together. 

Beckett mused over how clingy her younger partner had become as they traversed the hallway towards the two rooms claimed by the detectives. While she was plenty glad to indulge him, and apparently Castle was too, she wondered if she shouldn’t be concerned. As an adult, Ryan loved attention and being in the middle of the crowd. Little kid Kevin took it to a new level, never wanting to be far from one of his friends and preferably in physical contact with them. Her heart ached for how timid and insecure he’d become since the change. She didn’t know how to address the problem. 

Her boyfriend seemed to have the same understanding that she did. Instead of entering the smaller room where the blond’s very few personal items were kept, he walked directly into Javier’s room. Beckett let go of his hand so she could check on the slumbering Hispanic while Castle continued to the on-suite bathroom. Beckett half-listened to the two of them as she took a seat on the edge of the bed. Javier appeared to be sleeping comfortably. She hoped he’d remain free of the bad dreams that bothered Kevin earlier. 

Kevin came out of the bathroom on his own two feet, now dressed in dinosaur themed sleepwear and smelling of minty toothpaste. Castle trailed behind him, flipping off the light to the bathroom as he exited. Kevin pulled himself up onto the bed and slid under the covers. He settled in with about a foot of space between himself and Javier. He curled up on his side, his back to the large bay window which framed the half-moon riding low in the sky. 

Both full-size adults bid him good-night. Castle wrapped his arm around Beckett’s shoulders as they made the trek across the upstairs hallway to the master bedroom. Beckett sleepily went through her own nightly routine. While last night’s activities had certainly been pleasurable, she was greatly looking forward to going straight to sleep tonight. She curled up with Castle in the middle of the wide bed and slept soonest.

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little short. Chapter 22 picks up on Thursday morning. The characters have been through a lot so far and they needed a slight breather. Thursday should be a mostly good day and then Friday will be back to the drama. :)
> 
> Reference to _Swordfish_ (2001), distributed by Warner Bros. et al.


	22. Thursday Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the group spends some time on the beach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Twenty-Two

Beckett ventured downstairs the next morning, guided by the smell of fresh coffee and sizzling bacon. Castle was in the kitchen wearing sweats and a faded t-shirt featuring Old Glory while he prepared their breakfast. The sight of him nearly made up for waking by herself. She walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. She rested her head between his shoulder blades. 

“Good morning,” Castle said warmly. “Happy Independence Day. There’s fresh coffee in the press.” Beckett moved away from him to pour herself a cup of the still boiling joe. By the time she was finished adding all her preferred condiments, Castle was setting a plate of eggs Benedict before her. 

“Oh, turkey bacon instead of Canadian?”

“The kitchen is a little under stocked right now,” admitted the author. 

“The Hollandaise is good,” Beckett complimented. 

“Thank you, my dear.” Castle sat down next to her with his own serving. They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes. Beckett didn’t fail to notice how Castle kept looking between the digital clock at the back of the stove and the doorway to the foyer.

“What’s the matter, Castle?”

“Oh, nothing,” he said. 

“You seem a little preoccupied. What’s so fascinating about the stove or the stairs?”

“The boys are usually up well before this time,” said Castle. “I checked on them before I came downstairs and they seemed fine but I expected them down here a while ago.”

Beckett wouldn’t have given the late hour much thought herself but as much as she hated to admit it, Castle was more familiar with her boys’ child-sized selves than she was. His concern made her uneasy. She ate a little more quickly. Castle did the same. She topped off her coffee as he rinsed off their plates for the dishwasher and then they headed upstairs together. 

The two little bodies were curled up together, with Kevin tucked up against Javier tightly. The Hispanic detective had his arms securely wrapped around his partner. They looked anything but peaceful. Javier’s brow was furrowed and his mouth turned down in a frown. From what she could see of Kevin’s partially hidden face, he bore a similar expression. 

“Javi.” Beckett jostled his shoulder until he startled awake. “Hey, it’s me.”

“What’s wrong? Is it morning yet?” It took a couple minutes for his breathing to return to normal. He rubbed his hands tiredly over his face. Beckett rubbed his back soothingly as her own brow creased with worry lines. 

“It’s definitely morning,” said Castle. “The day I actually wake up on my own is the day you two decide to let me sleep in?” He dropped his gaze to watch Kevin reluctantly join them in consciousness. The toddler blinked sleepily and reached instinctively for his partner. His little hand fisted in the hem of Javier’s shirt. 

“Did you not sleep well?” asked Beckett. 

“Huh? Oh, fine,” answered Javier. He untangled Kevin’s hand from his shirt so he could crawl past Beckett and slide off the bed. Beckett’s frown deepened as she watched him walk into the attached bathroom and close the door behind himself. At the sound of the latch she transferred her gaze to Kevin. 

“More nightmares?”

“Mmhm.” Kevin tucked his hand back against his chest and pressed his face into the pillow as if not being able to see Beckett or Castle would make them go away. 

“Nightmares?” asked Castle. 

“He had one last night, before we came upstairs,” said Beckett. She looked worriedly at Castle. “If Javi is having the same bad dreams, it’s probably related to the attack yesterday.”

“Well, the best thing we can do is get their minds off of it,” said Castle. He clapped his hands together. “We’ll finish breakfast and take a stroll down by the water. That always helps me clear my mind when I’m saddled with writer’s block.”

“Okay.” Beckett shot him a grateful smile. “Come on, baby boy. Up and at ‘em.” She pulled down the covers. Kevin curled up more tightly as the cooler air hit him and mumbled into the pillow his displeasure at the idea of moving. Castle unsympathetically picked Kevin up and tossed the toddler over his shoulder. The miniaturized detective let out an exaggerated grunt at the rough treatment. Beckett had a hard time swallowing her laugh at his pitiful kicked puppy expression as he silently pleaded for her help from over Castle’s shoulder as the writer headed out of the bedroom. Beckett waited for Javier to come out of the bathroom and the two partners joined their friends shortly thereafter. 

Forty-five minutes later, Beckett took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the crisp salty air. As much as she loved New York City and putting away bad guys, she could easily imagine herself doing this every morning. She swung her arm back and forth in a long arc, nearly dragging her partner off his feet when the movement exceeded his limited range. Beckett smiled down at Javier’s curious look, trying to impart some of her peace to him. 

Javier’s careful study of her unexplained lightheartedness meant he wasn’t paying attention to the incoming wave. The cold water crashed against the back of his calves. “Shit!” He spun around to glare at the retreating water. Beckett couldn’t help laughing as he complained about his wet shorts and the mud now squelching between his toes and the plastic of his sandals. The lead detective’s own flip flops were now messy as well but the water hadn’t come anywhere near the hem of her Bermuda shorts. 

“Oh, you barely got wet,” Beckett informed him when she could stop laughing. She tugged on his hand to get him to starting walking again. 

“Why don’t you walk on the inside then?” suggested Javier.

“That’s okay.” She made a face at his annoyed expression. 

“Women,” Javier complained. The two detectives approached their companions who had gotten a few yards ahead of them and were wisely waiting further inland, just out of reach of the rising tide. Castle had his camcorder focused on them, much to Javier’s ire. Kevin stood at the writer’s side, gripping one of the taller man’s pockets and doing a poor job hiding his own amusement at his partner’s misfortune behind his other hand.

“Can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em,” agreed the writer. Beckett stuck her tongue out at the camera. 

“You three aren’t the ones drowning in testosterone,” she said. “If anything, you should feel bad for me. If I want some female interaction, I have to go to a morgue.”

“Talking to Ryan isn’t enough?” 

“Very funny, Javier.” The Hispanic detective smirked at his partner. 

“Hey, Javi, why don’t you and Kevin run up ahead and see if there are any more lobsters hiding under yon log.” Castle pointed towards a beached chunk of wood near the edge of his property.

“Why?” Javier moved closer to Beckett as if she would protect him from whatever her boyfriend was planning. 

“Because I told you to.” Castle prodded Kevin between the shoulder blades to get the toddler to start moving. 

“That’s not a good enough reason,” argued Javier. 

“I want to give Kate a long, tongue-filled smooch and if you don’t get moving, you’ll be forced to watch.” Beckett chuckled again at Javier’s disgusted look. She shook her hand free of his grasp and motioned to Kevin. 

“Go.” Javier gave them each one last look before stalking over to his partner. 

“I bet I can beat you there,” goaded Kevin, apparently still bitter about Javier’s last jibe. 

“Yeah, if you beat me it’s because my shoes are full of mud.” The two started off and Javier did seem to struggle a bit in his slick, wet shoes, erasing any advantage he had for being a few inches taller. Beckett slid her arms around Castle’s chest and rested her cheek against his shoulder as he recorded the race. The boys reached the log in a virtual tie, though both were ready to argue for victory. 

“Where’s my kiss?” asked Beckett. 

“What kiss? That was just incentive to get the kids to exercise.”

“You tease.” Beckett slapped his chest playfully. “In that case, I bet you can’t make it over there first.”

“But my dear, your shoes are full of mud.”

“I sprint in three inch heels. Do you really think a little mud is going to slow me down?” 

“Point,” said Castle. Beckett started racing towards her boys, not even caring that Castle failed to accept her challenge. The effort got her heart pumping, flooding her system with adrenaline. She lost one flip flop to an extra damp bit of sand but that didn’t stop her forward momentum. She purposefully kicked off the other as she reached her partners. 

“No lobsters today,” Kevin informed her. He had found a short stick nearby and was poking the water-logged wood. 

“Oh well,” said Beckett. “Come here.” He dutifully came to stand in front her. Beckett knelt down and rubbed her thumb over his cheek, removing a speck of wet sand that had flung up during the boys’ footrace. He rolled his eyes at her mothering. 

“Yo, Beckett.” The lead detective looked up at the sound of her name. “Do you see that?”

“See what?” She squinted as she stared in the direction that Javier was pointing but could see nothing out of the ordinary. The beach continued for miles, crossing numerous property lines until it met the horizon. 

“This.” Javier took two more steps down the beach and waved his hand in a circular motion, as if he were miming a wall. “It’s hazy.”

“I don’t see anything,” said Beckett. She frowned and walked over to the six-year-old. She lifted her hand to touch the air where Javier had indicated the haze.

“It’s a few inches more,” whispered Kevin. He came up behind her and hooked a finger in her belt loop. “It’s like a translucent, iridescent wall that starts at the water and goes all the way up to the street.”

“It’s a haze,” pouted Javier. He gave his partner a derisive look. Kevin ignored him. 

Beckett reached a few inches further until she felt a very slight tingle at the tips of her fingers. She paused, her heart beating a little more quickly. When she didn’t receive a shock or worse, she stuck more of her hand into the empty space before her. She couldn’t see anything but she could definitely feel the weak ripple of something flowing over her outstretched appendage. Beckett immediately concluded that it was something magical, considering her boys could actually see something. 

“Look at this,” said Castle. He joined them and held out the camera to Beckett so she could see the viewfinder. He had set it to replay the last minute of recorded action. She watched Javier’s mime of the wall and then herself approach the property line. She could see nothing until she stuck her hand into the magical current. On the screen there was a brief flash of color around her hand and then it returned to invisible air as she explored the phenomenon.

“What in the world?” asked Beckett. 

“I don’t know,” said the writer. “Maybe you shouldn’t stand so close to it.” Beckett pushed her partners away from the wall of magic. “Do you think Bianca has something to do with this?” She could clearly see that he desperately hoped the phenomenon was related to their possible ally and not some new adversary.

“I’ll ask her,” said Beckett. She kept the knowledge that Bianca did not know where they were to herself. 

“Huh.” Javier shoved his hands in his pockets. “If it is her, at least she’s doing _something_.”

“Randy is working on breaking the curse,” Beckett said. She flicked his ear. “The last thing anyone wants is to make this situation worse, so be patient.”

“It can get worse?” asked Kevin sarcastically. 

“Yes,” said Beckett sternly. “Now, the next person to pout or be mouthy gets tossed into the drink.”

“You’d have to catch us, first,” said Javier. He scooped up a handful of sand and chunked it at his boss. Beckett gaped at his audacity and the splotch of mud on her pale shirt. 

“Javier Esposito!” Beckett made a grab for him but Javier dodged her hands and darted away, retracing the path of his earlier race. Beckett was hot on his heels, determined to extract payback for her shirt. Kevin headed for the relative security of Castle’s shadow. They followed after Beckett and Javier at a safe distance. Castle kept the video camera trained on the action. 

Beckett finally managed to catch up to Javier and get her arms around his waist. She hauled him into the air. Javier put up a valiant fight, kicking and flailing, but Beckett kept her grip as she walked straight into the ocean. She didn’t stop even when the water was deep enough to drench the bottom of her shorts.

“Help! Help!” Javier changed his tactics when they reached the deeper water. He clung to Beckett tightly. “Castle!”

“You’re on your own, buddy,” the writer called back. Beckett stopped when the water was up to her mid-thigh. She somehow managed to pry Javier’s arms from around her neck and dropped him unceremoniously into the cold saltwater. He surfaced a second later, sputtering and spitting the sea out of his mouth. 

“This is so cruel and unusual,” he informed Beckett. 

“I like this shirt, you little punk.”

“Oh yeah?” Javier cupped his hands together and set a cascade of water at the woman. Beckett shrieked and grabbed his shoulder to push him back underwater. Javier aimed for her midsection when he came up again. He was slowed by the deep water hampering his movement but a helpful wave crashed into them just then, sending both detectives underwater. 

Beckett came up sputtering and laughing as she grabbed for Javier to make sure he stayed above water. “You are so going to pay for that,” she promised. 

“What are you going to do? I’m already completely soaked.”

“I’ll exact my revenge when you least expect it.” Javier didn’t look convinced that she’d be successful. His teeth started chattering as the chill seawater finally got to him. Beckett felt cold herself. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” She guided Javier back towards shore. She was nearly back on dry land when an appreciative whistle cut through the air. Beckett caught Castle’s eye and the writer winked at her. It took her a second to catch on but she quickly realized that her pale summer shirt was now a very revealing shade of transparent. The wet fabric clung to her trim torso and her leopard print lacy bra. 

“Not that I don’t greatly enjoy the view, but maybe I should run up and get you a towel,” said Castle. 

“It’s not like it’s anything we haven’t seen before,” said Javier flippantly. 

“Um, what? Excuse me?” Castle looked flabbergasted as he looked between the two detectives. 

“Oh, don’t look so scandalized,” said Beckett.

Kevin tugged on the hem of Castle’s shirt. The writer glanced down at him. The youngest detective reached up beseechingly. Castle was still trying to digest the fact that the two junior detectives had seen his girlfriend in just her underwear and therefore distractedly knelt down to scoop the toddler up without questioning Kevin’s sudden desire to be held. “When did this happen?”

“A long time ago,” said Beckett. “I’ll tell you the story later. Right now, I’m freezing cold and want to change.”

Castle turned to look up towards the house. He immediately saw the reason for Kevin’s shift from outgoing to shy. Martha was leisurely walking towards them, trailed by a familiar face. “The boys may have already seen you in your unmentionables but I bet he hasn’t.”

“Shit,” cursed Beckett softly. “Give him to me.” Beckett pried Kevin out of Castle’s hold.

“No-oh,” the blond protested. “You’re all wet.”

“Shove it,” replied Beckett. She situated him such that his body mostly covered her front, partially restoring her modesty. If she didn’t need two hands to hold the squirming Irishman in place, she’d have smacked Javier upside the head for snickering at her predicament. Beckett moved so that she stood slightly behind Castle and smiled casually at Southampton Police Chief Brady. 

“Hey,” greeted Castle. “What brings you down here?” He held out his hand to shake the other man’s. Beckett thought he sounded completely suspicious and wanted to kick him. Unfortunately, that would probably look even more incriminating. 

“Hello,” said Martha. “You all look like you’re enjoying yourselves.” She offered an amused smile to Javier. The six-year-old had his arms wrapped around himself and was looking quite cold. 

“We were,” said Beckett. “The water’s really not warm enough yet for swimming, though. We should get up to the house and change before someone catches a cold.”

“Of course,” said Martha. “Richard, Chief Brady stopped by to speak with you.”

“Sure,” said Castle. “Chief, if you’ll just give us a moment?”

“No problem,” agreed Brady. 

“Great,” said Beckett. “Come on, guys.” She was starting to shiver herself. She felt a little guilty for dragging Javier into the waves, even if he had deserved it. She carried Kevin up to the house, still using him as a human shield. Castle and Javier followed closely behind her. Martha and the police chief trailed them at a more leisurely pace. 

When they reached the rear door, Castle made them wait outside for another minute while he retrieved towels from the outdoor cabana. “Seriously, Castle? We’re about to catch hypothermia here,” complained Javier. 

“You’re not going to freeze to death in two seconds,” argued the writer. He draped one towel over Beckett’s shoulders and wrapped another around Javier. Beckett set Kevin down now that she had the towel to protect her modesty. The toddler pulled on the front of his t-shirt to inspect the large wet spot and pouted sadly at the lead detective. 

“Oh, boohoo,” teased Beckett. She ruffled his hair and Kevin’s expression morphed from sadness to annoyance. She took the last towel from Castle and used it to wipe the wet sand and dripping water off her legs so she wouldn’t track it through the writer’s pristine house. Javier wanted nothing to do with trying to clean off before entering the warm interior so Castle made sure the kid was securely wrapped in the towel and then picked him up bridal style to carry upstairs. All of their shoes were left by the door. 

Beckett escaped to the master bedroom to clean up and change while Castle assisted the boys. The scalding water of the shower felt heavenly on her goose bump covered flesh. She hurried through her routine and opted to pull her hair back in a wet ponytail instead of drying it right away. By the time she was finished, the males were heading towards the bridge between the two upper wings of the house. She met them at the top of the stairs. 

Javier’s teeth were still chattering and he looked at her balefully. Beckett’s guilt overrode her self-justification at dumping him in the ocean. “I’m sorry, Javi.”

“Don’t feel too sorry for him,” said Castle. “He’s faking it.”

Javier’s shivering and teeth-clacking ceased immediately. “Thanks, Castle.”

“Jerk,” complained Beckett. She made good on her previous urge to smack him. She didn’t look back as she headed downstairs, ignoring the Cuban’s crocodile tears and complaints of a headache. 

Martha waited with Police Chief Brady in one of the smaller living areas at the back of the house. The warm sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows and caused the various glass vases and decorations around the room to sparkle invitingly. When she entered the room, Brady stood to greet her. She shook his hand firmly. 

“Miss Beckett, it’s nice to see you again.” She wished that she felt the same about his presence. Brady glanced over her shoulder to where Castle and the boys had come in behind her. “Mr. Castle. I ran into Miss Barnes last night. She mentioned you were in town and that you had company…”

Beckett glanced in confusion at Castle after registering Brady’s I’m-judging-you-but-trying-really-hard-to-not-let-it-show look in her direction. Who was this Barnes woman and what had Castle said to her about Beckett? For his part, Castle looked only mildly unsure as to what the lawman was hinting. 

“Anyway, I stopped by because I was hoping you could assist me again,” said Brady. “You and your team down in the city were a big help with that murder and I’ve got another case that’s a doozy.” He paused awkwardly and glanced between Beckett and the two little boys hovering near Castle. “That is, if you’re not too busy.”

“We are kind of busy,” said Beckett. She frowned as she struggled to interpret Brady’s strange behavior. She remembered his initial assumption that she was a date-for-hire that last time they’d met but that had been cleared up when he learned that she was actually a celebrated NYPD homicide detective. Now it seemed that the police chief had regressed to his first impression. 

“Of course,” he said. He shifted uncomfortably. Unable to keep his curiosity in check, he blurted out, “So are you and Mr. Castle still hiding your relationship?”

“What?” It took Beckett a second to catch up with the conversation again. “Oh, yes we are. Thank you for being discreet about that.”

“Wait a minute,” said Javier. “You told this clown about your secret relationship before you told _us_?” Beckett felt her face color and Castle started coughing theatrically. 

“Shut up,” the lead detective ordered. She tried to smooth out her expression before addressing the police chief. “My apologies.”

“Kids. What can you do?” Brady swallowed thickly as if he were embarrassed about something. “Melinda, um, told me about them. She mentioned that they were from previous relationships of yours. Are they, uh, secrets, too?”

Oh. _Oh_. Beckett’s expression turned murderous as she faced her boyfriend. Castle raked his hand through his hair and looked anywhere but at her. His gaze did land for a long moment on his mother, silently begging for her help. Martha looked far too amused to intercede. That didn’t necessarily make Beckett feel any better. “Yes,” Beckett ground out from between clenched teeth. 

“That skank doesn’t know what the h-” Javier’s statement was abruptly cut off as Castle slapped his hand over the boy’s mouth. Beckett talked over Castle’s admonishment to “act like a little kid, Javi,” and drew Brady’s attention back to her. 

“I don’t know what kind of _flattering_ rumors Castle is spreading about me to the fine citizens of Southampton, but I’m sure Miss Barnes misunderstood. The boys are mine, but not biologically.” 

“Ah,” said Brady. His not-so-subtle judging eased and he smiled at the detective more agreeably. He looked once more towards the group of idiots - ahem, guys - near the doorway. Javier and Castle were in a heated whispering match, complete with finger-pointing and restrained gesturing, while Kevin watched them like one watches a tennis match. “I think adoption is a noble endeavor.”

“Thank you. Now, what is this case that you mentioned?” She desperately wanted to get him talking about something besides her personal life. “Castle!” She smiled sweetly at the police chief to temper the way she’d hissed her boyfriend’s name. The writer obediently ceased his argument with her partner and meekly came to her side like a chastised puppy. If he thought he was in trouble now, he just better wait until they didn’t have an audience…

Martha finally decided to bow out of the room, uninterested in hearing about the newest police case into which her son was about to jump headfirst. “Come on, kiddos, I need some help planning the drink menu for Saturday.” She nudged the two miniaturized detectives towards the exit. Neither one looked happy about being excluded from the discussion but Martha seemed to have some special ability to get her way with them on the first try. 

“Why don’t you give them some of your patented _acting_ lessons while you’re at it?” suggested Castle. He shot Javier a pointed look. Martha rolled her eyes and gave each of the kids one last nudge to get them through the doorway. 

Brady looked a little bewildered at the exchange. “Drink menu?” he asked eventually. Beckett resisted the urge to groan loudly and run her hands over her face. 

“Oh, you know… iced tea, lemonade or Kool-Aid,” said Castle with a stutter. “What, you thought she meant alcohol?” Castle laughed nervously. Beckett knew that’s exactly what Martha had meant. 

“Your case?” Beckett pushed them back on track. 

“Right.” The three settled into various seats around the room and Brady began to outline his new case for them. Beckett was not altogether surprised that it had to do with the mysterious theft and subsequent abandonment of Mr. Walter Yates’ body. She and Castle listened to his explanation of the bizarre event while acting as if they had no previous knowledge of the incident. 

“This is even stranger than that murder-slash-drug ring case you helped me solve last year,” said Brady. “Detective, have you even seen anything like this in New York City?”

“Well, grave robberies do happen,” said Beckett. “I’ve never worked one, personally.” There was that case with the treasured buried “under the Gunn,” but that that didn’t really count as a grave robbery. 

“Oh.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t help,” said Castle. He leaned forward. “What leads do you have so far?”

“Nothing, really,” said Brady. “The cemetery mentioned that they have security cameras and one points towards the Yates mausoleum. They’re supposed to send me the tapes later today.”

“Was there anyone in Mr. Yates’ life who might be interested in his body?”

“His wife couldn’t think of anyone who would try to steal it,” said Brady. 

“Did he have any strange friends? What about shady acquaintances?” asked Castle. 

“I don’t think so.”

“Did you subpoena his phone and financial records from the last couple years before he died?”

“Years?” Brady looked a little resistant to the idea of treading through that much paperwork. 

“It may not have been anyone he interacted with immediately before he passed,” said Beckett. 

“Or, maybe it wasn’t anyone he knew at all,” said Castle. He sounded like he did when he’d drawn a conclusion based on his own mystery writing experience instead of the actual facts of the case. “I thought Mr. Yates passed away in early 2012. I saw the news coverage earlier this afternoon and the body didn’t look like it had been decomposing for over a year.”

“You’re right,” said Brady. He took a moment to think back over his initial investigation. “I’ll check with the funeral home to see if anything was done to preserve Walter’s body.”

“I think that’s an excellent place to start,” said Beckett. She stood up to signal that she didn’t want to discuss this anymore. It seemed that Brady didn’t have the foggiest idea who could have been using Yates’ body to try to abduct her partners. She was willing to help the police chief insofar as his investigation helped her but she fully expected to do most of the detecting using her own resources, behind his back. 

“Uh, sure, thank you.” Brady stood up quickly as well, somewhat taken aback by her sudden dismissal of him. 

“I’ll walk you to the door,” said Castle. He motioned for the police chief to follow him. Beckett could tell that Brady wanted to continue speaking with them but he held his peace and allowed himself to be escorted out of the house. Castle promised to let him know if they thought of any other avenues of investigation. Brady vowed to let them know as soon as he gathered any new evidence. 

Beckett rounded on Castle as soon as the front door closed. “What exactly have you been telling people about me and the boys, Castle?”

“Nothing! Look, Melinda Barnes and her mother saw me at the farmer’s market and stopped to say hello. All I said was that Javier and Kevin were your kids and I was watching them for you. They came up with the rest all by themselves.”

“And you didn’t bother to correct them?”

“What was I supposed to say?”

“Something along the lines of, ‘My girlfriend is not a tramp who sleeps around and has babies with random guys!’”

“I told them off,” said Castle meekly. “You can ask the boys.”

“Oh, I will,” threatened Beckett. She spun on her heel and headed for the stairs. “I need to make some phone calls.” Castle moved towards the other end of the house where Martha had settled in with the junior detectives, wisely letting Beckett calm down in solitude. Seriously, at this rate Beckett would never be able to show her face in the Hamptons again.

_to be continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, the comment about the boys having already seen Beckett in her unmentionables is not a reference to _Decompression_. ;P Two completely different universes.


	23. Thursday Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Javi wants to be treated like an adult and Kevin isn't helping...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Twenty-Three

Castle walked through the kitchen to the little dining nook tucked in the corner. He took quick inventory of the people seated around the circular table and realized that the number of redheads had multiplied during his meeting with Chief Brady. The author made it a point to stop next to his daughter’s chair and _faire la bise_ with her. Alexis smiled up at him warmly. “Hi, Dad.”

“When did you get here?”

“Not too long ago,” answered the college student. She was wearing an off-white t-shirt with a blue lion’s head taking up most of the space on the front and COLUMBIA arching across her chest. “Gram said that you and Kate were talking to Chief Brady about a new case?”

Castle debated about whether he wanted to tell Alexis about their run-in with the necromancer or not. He didn’t doubt that she could handle the story but he still didn’t want to expose her to more of the dark world of magic into which he’d been dragged. He decided to make the decision later. “Yes, he has another strange one that requires Kate’s expert advice. What are you guys working on?” The table was covered with various party favors and a mess of confetti, all in the patriotic colors of red, white, and blue. 

“I’m trying to decide what decorations to use for Saturday,” said Martha. “The boys, of course, like the confetti since it’s the messiest.” Javier rolled his eyes when Martha wasn’t looking at him. “Alexis thinks we need more stars.”

“It’s been a while since I did any arts and crafts projects,” said Alexis. “I think it’d be fun to decorate some stars and hang them up around the pool.” 

“You just like to shower everyone with glitter,” said Castle. He moved around the table so he could lift Kevin out of his chair and claim it for himself. The little dinning set only had room for four. The toddler amiably went with the change in seating arrangements. He was barely distracted from his task of cutting out construction paper stars for Alexis as he settled into place on Castle’s lap. Castle picked up one of the neatly cut shapes and admired the four-year-old’s handiwork. Javier had a much smaller pile next to his seat. He exuded an air of inconvenience at being made to partake in the childish task and clearly hadn’t gone about it with the same dedication as his partner. 

“You know me too well,” said Alexis with a beautiful grin. Castle’s heartstrings tugged painfully. He really missed his daughter now that she didn’t live with him full time. She was definitely a ray of light in his sometimes bleak world. 

“Now, Richard, Annie called a bit ago to get the final headcount for the party. Do you have the RSVP list?”

“Yes, it’s upstairs somewhere,” said Castle. “Speaking of my talented event-planner… Why are we in charge of decorations?”

“We’re not,” said Alexis. “Still, Gram thinks the party could use a little more sparkle and I agree. Besides, this is fun, don’t you think?”

“Lots of fun,” said Javier dryly. 

“Oh, don’t act like you weren’t the first one at the table,” chided Martha. She reached over to pat his cheek. Javier grimaced at the attention. 

“I was tired of standing,” he argued. Alexis chuckled. Castle smirked in amusement. 

“Lanie is coming to the party,” the writer informed Javier. “Doesn’t that make you happy?” Javier shrugged as he nodded slowly. Kevin put down his scissors and leaned back against Castle’s chest. The older man brushed his hand over the boy’s forehead, pushing his hair away from his face. “You done?” The blond made a small sound of affirmation. 

“Nap time?” guessed Martha. 

Javier’s cheeks pinked slightly and he glanced surreptitiously at Alexis before focusing on Martha. “We don’t take naps.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ve taken one nearly every day since the change,” pointed out Castle. 

“ _I_ haven’t.” Javier sat up a little straighter. Castle realized that was true - the older detective typically made it through the whole day, whereas his partner was the one whose smaller body needed more rest. Yesterday had been only the second time Javier had gone down in the middle of the day. 

“Well, Mr. Big Boy, I’m going to take your little brother upstairs,” said Castle. “Have fun making paper stars with the ladies.” He pushed his chair back from the table and secured his hold on Kevin so he could stand up.

“Cas- _tle_ ,” complained the Hispanic detective. Javier checked on Alexis’ expression again. She seemed unconcerned by his bid to be treated like a grown up. Castle grinned gleefully to himself. While the boys seemed more okay with their child bodies around Castle, Beckett, and Martha, apparently Javier still felt the need to be seen as an adult by Castle’s daughter. It was adorable. 

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Castle told his family. He made his way upstairs, trailed by a frustrated junior detective who insisted that the writer stop trying to embarrass him in front of the others. Castle was glad that Javier was behind him and couldn’t see his cheek-splitting grin.

xXx

Beckett secured herself in the privacy of the master bedroom so she could make her phone calls without interruption. The first number she dialed belonged to Bianca. The white witch answered after a few rings. 

“Hello, Katherine. To what do I owe this pleasure?” Beckett guessed that the older woman was still miffed at her for bringing Randy Bellefonte to their meeting yesterday and then refusing to let the witch have access to her partners. Well, Beckett was miffed about the wall of magic surrounding Castle’s house, so they were even. 

“Did you do something to Richard Castle’s house in the Hamptons?” she asked without preamble. 

“Well, I never,” huffed Bianca in response to Beckett’s tone. “You won’t even tell me where you’re staying, Katherine. What could I have possibly done?”

“So you don’t know anything about a wall of magic surrounding his property?”

“You noticed it?”

Beckett ground her teeth together. “The boys noticed it. What did you do?”

“Really, Katherine, you could be a little more grateful. Those wards are in place to protect you and the children. They will dissuade less savory sorts from approaching the house. After the incident with the necromancer, it was prudent to shield the house as much as possible.” Bianca sounded like she was scolding Beckett for being stubborn whereas she was the one going around behind Beckett’s back and casting spells all over the place. 

“That’s all the wards do?” As annoyed as she was, Beckett supposed she could live with the added layer of protection. 

“They will also alert myself or my associate if someone tries to cross their boundary.”

Beckett pinched the bridge of her nose as a headache formed between her eyes. “We’re coming back to the discussion about how you knew which house to ‘protect’, but first explain to me why you told _another_ witch where to find us.”

“My associate is quite trustworthy and put up the wards as a favor to me, without requiring any explanation as to whom they were protecting or why it was necessary,” said Bianca. “You obviously don’t want _me_ to come near your precious little boys so I had no choice but to send someone else.”

“Bianca…” Beckett swallowed a throaty growl of frustration. “It’s not you. I don’t want witches, period, near them. You couldn’t have missed the fact that Randy hasn’t seen them either and he’s actually trying to help me.”

Bianca audibly bristled at the other end of the line in response to Beckett’s implication that she wasn’t trying to help them. “Then you want me to have the wards removed?”

“Ugh, no.” Beckett could imagine the self-righteous smirk on the witch’s perfectly painted lips. 

“Then I don’t see what all the fuss is about.”

“You know what, forget it,” said Beckett. “Tell me how you knew where we were.”

“I have resources, just like you, Katherine,” said Bianca evasively. “I have an appointment for which I am about to be late. Please keep in mind that the wards only work if you stay within them. Good-bye.”

Beckett stared incredulously at the screen of her phone which displayed the statistics of the recently ended call. Beckett tossed it to the side and flopped down on the bed. She grabbed one of the plush pillows and covered her face with it to muffle her exclamation of aggravation. She hated this case so much. 

It helped a little. Feeling marginally more composed, Beckett ran her fingers through her messy hair and checked on the clock. It was already well after noon. Beckett guiltily picked up her cell-phone again and dialed the number for the 12th Precinct. As the phone rang she settled down at the foot of the bed. Once she was transferred to Detective Demming she immediately apologized for not checking in sooner. 

“Don’t worry about it,” replied the robbery detective. “You needed a few hours to yourself. Got your head on straight now?”

“I don’t know about getting any time to myself,” said Beckett. “But I do feel a little better, despite a certain witch’s desire to drive me mad. What have you found out concerning the Valduerez murder case?”

Demming paused as he considered addressing her comment about a witchy tormentor. Instead, he heeded her desire to talk about something else. “Interviews with the guests of the jewelry convention at the Clairemont Hotel were completed this morning. It turns out that a fair amount of expensive jewelry had gone missing the day before Valduerez was murdered, just like Castle learned when he visited. None of the missing items were found with the body except the diamond studs.”

“So that lead is a bust?”

“On the contrary,” said Demming. “A search of Mr. Hanson’s office safe revealed quite the collection of stolen necklaces and earrings. They’re being catalogued in Evidence right now. CSI had a look at them and didn’t turn up any useable prints, but considering Hanson admitted to employing Valduerez and the studs were part of a set with one of the necklaces in his safe, it’s clear that the two were working the scam together.”

“Is there any evidence to suggest that Hanson was involved in Valduerez’s death?” 

“Not directly,” replied Demming. “He did make large money transfers to another bank account each month. I have some people in Robbery comparing the transfers to known jewelry thefts in the past eighteen months to see if they correspond to a percentage of the total value.”

“Did the bank account belong to Valduerez or any of the Bellefontes?”

“No. It belongs to a Mr. and Mrs. Denny Anderson.”

“I don’t know that name,” said Beckett. 

“According to Radiant Pines Elementary, they are the legal guardians of Serafina Valduerez,” said Demming. 

Beckett leaned forward excitedly with her elbows braced against her knees. “That’s the kind of connection we need. Have you been in contact with them?”

“I spoke with Mr. Anderson’s secretary,” said Demming. “I scheduled a meeting with them for tomorrow morning at the precinct.”

“Did they explain why they never came forward when Valduerez was found?”

“I suspect they wanted to distance themselves from the crime, seeing as they were a part of her illegal activities. Their official story is that she was staying with an aunt upstate for two weeks and it’s not uncommon for them to be out of contact with Serafina when she’s with relatives.”

“Did they give a name for this ‘aunt’?”

“Nora Bellefonte,” said Demming. 

“Good,” said Beckett. “On that subject; did surveillance come in from the hospital?” 

“Yes. About six in the morning an older gentleman, dressed like a patient, entered her room and left again after about five minutes. That falls within the approximate time period that Miss Parish says the poison could have been administered. No one at the hospital could identify the man as being an actual patient. With a little perseverance and a halfway clear shot of his face as he left the room, we were able to ID him as Mr. Winston Kennedy.”

“Who is that?”

“He’s a retired philanthropist with an unlisted address. Detective Holt is helping me track him down.”

“Randy Bellefonte mentioned that he thinks his mother might have been killed by another witch as punishment for her use of black magic,” said Beckett. “See if this Kennedy has any connections to Bianca Castova.”

“Will do,” said Demming. “Anything else?”

“Not unless you have anything for me.” 

“One more thing you might be interested in. While the crime scene unit was tearing apart Hanson’s office, they noticed that a bookshelf seemed to be out of place. They pushed it back into its previous carpet marks and revealed a ragged hole in the wall.” 

“Any idea what caused the hole?”

“Well, the buckshot pellets embedded in the plaster were a pretty good indicator.”

“You found where Valduerez fired her shotgun?”

“It appears so,” said Demming. “The height of the scatter seems consistent with being fired by someone of diminutive stature and we know Valduerez was associated with Hanson.”

“That’s great news. We’re finally making headway on this homicide. Did you speak with any of the neighbors? Surely someone heard a shotgun being fired.”

“No one admitted to hearing anything,” said Demming. “It’s a commercial building, so it’s likely that it would have been mostly empty by the time the shot was fired.”

“True,” said Beckett. Her brief elation soured a little. 

“I’ll let you know if we have any luck on these leads or if anything new comes up,” promised Demming. 

“Thanks.” Beckett ended the call and slipped her phone into her pocket. Her desire to discuss these new developments with Castle overrode her earlier irritation at him so she decided to seek him out. To her surprise, he was crossing the short bridge between the two wings of the house when she stepped out of the master suite. Javier walked next to the writer. Her younger partner was missing from the group. 

“Okay?” asked Castle hesitantly when he saw her. 

“Yeah,” said Beckett. The writer visibly relaxed. “I spoke with Demming. They’ve made some progress on the case.” 

“What did you find out?” asked Javier. He left Castle’s side to come stand next to Beckett. 

“Demming has virtually confirmed that Valduerez was stealing jewelry for Greg Hanson. His colleagues in Robbery are trying to link her to other similar crimes over the past year or so.” Javier nodded and then looked at her expectantly for more information. “They also discovered that Valduerez fired her shotgun in Hanson’s office, probably the night before she died.”

“Do you think she was trying to kill Hanson?”

“I could understand why she might want to,” said Beckett dryly. “Demming is supposed to call me as soon as they learn anything else. Where’s Kevin?”

“I just put him down for a nap,” said Castle. “Javier is too grown up for one.”

“Damn straight.”

“Language,” admonished Castle and Beckett simultaneously. Javier scowled at them both. 

“I figured I’d take this opportunity to prepare for tonight. I want to start a new Independence Day tradition. I told you about my new boat, right?”

“You mentioned that you purchased one,” said Beckett. 

“I want to take it out and watch the fireworks from the sea,” said Castle. “The fireworks show here in Southampton isn’t until Saturday night but there’s one in Montauk tonight. It’s about an hour away from here.”

“That sounds romantic,” said Beckett. She gave Castle a small, forgiving smile. 

“Ew, no,” protested Javier. 

“Hush, you.” Beckett laughed and swatted at the boy’s shoulder. “Whenever you get up the courage to tell your crush about your feelings, you can make kissy-face under the fireworks, too.” Javier covered his offended appendage with his hand and pouted at his partner. 

“I’m starting to think Javier doesn’t even know who he supposedly likes,” complained Castle. 

“Oh, he does,” said Beckett knowingly. “I figured out whom.” 

“What?!” Beckett smiled gloatingly at her boyfriend. 

“You did not,” denied Javier. He didn’t look very sure of himself, though - he knew Beckett well enough to recognize when she was being honest or not. 

“Yes, I did. And I agree with Lanie. Your crush is very cute.” She tousled Javier’s hair playfully. He looked stricken at her revelation. 

“Who is it?” asked Castle.

“You mean you can’t figure it out?” goaded Beckett. She was enjoying this probably more than she should. Her minor victory was going a long way to dissipate her anger at Castle for allowing unflattering rumors about her to spread through the town. “I thought you were such a great observer of people, Castle.”

“I bet Javier told you. You two enjoy being partners in crime way too much.”

“He didn’t.” Beckett knelt down so she was at eye-level with her panicking partner. She took each of his hands in her own and squeezed reassuringly. “I’m not going to tell _any_ one without your permission,” she promised. He seemed to understand her special emphasis and exhaled shakily. She squeezed his hands again before standing up straight. She let him go as she turned to face her pouting lover. “I’m feeling a little sleepy myself. I think I’ll lie down for a few minutes as well.”

“Kate, it’s unhealthy to keep secrets from me,” said Castle. 

“Nope, you have to figure it out for yourself.”

“Fine. Come on Javier, we have work to do and you and I are going to have a _long_ conversation about the birds and the bees.” Castle grabbed his hand and started pulling the Hispanic detective towards the stairs. 

“I want to stay with Beckett.”

“She’s going to take a nap and you made such a big deal about being too old for naptime that I know you can’t possibly be tired.” Castle pried Javier’s fingers away from the banister and scooped the six-year-old into his arms. Javier squirmed until he could see Beckett over the writer’s shoulder. 

“Beckett! Beckett!” The lead detective wiggled her fingers coyly at her partner as Castle carried him down the stairs. Once they were out of sight, Beckett made her way to the other side of the bridge. She slipped through the partially open doorway to Kevin’s room. She tugged down the thin bedspread so she could slip underneath and curl around her younger partner. It wasn’t long until she joined him in sleep.

_to be continued…_  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The wonderful Lezzles made some cover art for _The Spellbound Affair_. You can see it on her blog at www.lsmwalls.tumblr.com. You may need to scroll down a little to find the amazing graphic. Please let her know what a great job she did. 
> 
> Also, thank you to my awesome beta-reader, TXMedic.


	24. Thursday Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the group goes out to sea...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Twenty-Four

By the time Kate and Kevin woke from their nap it was nearing two-thirty. Castle was growing impatient to leave for the marina, guessing that it would be crowded as other vacationers tried to take advantage of the long holiday weekend. He double checked the small bag he’d packed full of snacks, bottled water, champagne, and sunscreen. They needed to make a stop at the boat shop before they could leave, to buy life jackets small enough for Javier and Kevin. He had enough adult-sized ones to cover himself, Kate, Martha, and Alexis. 

Once everyone had donned their bathing suits beneath their beach clothes and the remaining gear was loaded into the trunk of the Mercedes, they finally piled into the cars. The two redheads would take Martha’s rental car since there wasn’t enough room in Castle’s car for all of them. 

Kate smiled fondly at her younger partner as she secured the five point restraint across his belly. “This doesn’t look so bad, baby boy.” She ran her fingers over the padded armrest. 

“I’ll trade you,” he volunteered crankily. He kicked the back of the passenger seat lightly. 

“That’s okay,” replied Kate. She kissed him wetly on the cheek. He wiped at his face with the sleeve of his t-shirt and sulked. “You good, Jav?”

“Yeah.” 

Castle, who was already situated in the driver’s seat, found the Hispanic boy’s face in the rearview mirror. Despite his ardent efforts to drag a name out of Javier, he was still no closer to learning the identity of the detective’s secret crush. Clearly, Kate had cheated. Probably Lanie had told her. It really wasn’t fair. 

Kate slipped into the passenger seat and closed her door. Castle started the engine while she buckled her seat belt. It was a short drive to the marina, which served Castle just fine. He was eager to show off his new toy to his friends. Martha followed closely behind him as they navigated through the narrow streets towards the waterfront. There was a private parking lot for people who rented a boat slip at the club. As Castle had predicted, it was already starting to fill up. 

Martha and Kate took the boys over to pick out life jackets in the little waterfront shop just off the main walkway while Castle and Alexis made sure they had everything they needed for the short outing. After completing their purchases, the group started the short trek to Castle’s slip. Javier and Kevin eagerly inspected all of the different boats they passed. Their excitement was contagious and even Kate engaged in their game of pointing out the witty or sentimental names of the boats and yachts they passed. Kate had a tight hold on Kevin’s hand but Javier roamed freely. He nearly gave Castle a heart attack when he stepped within just a couple inches of the edge. The writer forced himself to stop being so paranoid. The kid wouldn’t fall in. 

They finally rounded the corner and Castle’s newest lady came into view. He stopped proudly in front of the white vessel. The name _Gloria Scott_ was scrawled across the back of the boat in bold cursive font. 

“I thought you said you bought a _boat_ ,” said Javier as he eyed the forty-foot vessel skeptically. 

“It is a boat, kind of.” Castle adjusted the strap of the bag over his shoulder. “It’s a cruiser. Come on, I’ll give you the tour.” He motioned for his guests to step aboard the small yacht. Alexis and Martha wasted no time going aboard. 

Kate raised an eyebrow as she regarded her boyfriend. “Who, exactly, is Gloria Scott?”

Kevin tugged on her hand. “It’s from Sherlock Holmes,” the toddler informed her. “Come on.” He ineffectually tried to drag her towards the cruiser. 

“You would know that,” complained Javier as he regarded his partner disdainfully.

“Just because I _can_ read…” Kevin shrieked playfully as Javier lunged for him. Fortunately for him, Castle intercepted the older boy. 

“No horseplay on the dock,” he scolded. “You’re going to give me a heart attack.” He lifted Javier the short distance from the main walkway to the aft cockpit. “Come here, Kevin.” Kate released her junior partner so Castle could swing him over the bull rail and onto the cruiser as well. Kevin latched onto Javier’s arm.

“Isn’t this so cool?”

“It’s pretty neat,” admitted Javier. “I claim this seat for the fireworks.” He dragged Kevin up the single step to the partially shaded seating area behind the enclosed upper salon. 

Castle offered Kate his hand to guide her onto the boat. Now that she understood the source of the boat’s name she gazed about herself. “This is beautiful, Castle.”

“Thank you.” He climbed up next to her. “Let me show you around.” The tour went pretty quickly since the vessel wasn’t overly large. The writer walked them through the upper salon, pointing out the helm as they passed it. At the bottom of the short staircase was a small galley. Behind a folding partition wall was the master stateroom with its three piece bathroom. The large queen sized berth took up most of the space but there was plenty of storage under and around the bed. Under the upper salon was the aft stateroom with matching twin-sized bunks and a second bathroom. 

The group returned to the upper deck where Alexis and Martha had claimed seats at the exterior cockpit. Javier climbed into the captain’s chair at the helm and studied the navigation system curiously. “Do you actually know how to drive this thing?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Castle. “Don’t touch anything.” Javier made a face at Castle’s ‘overreaction’ but obediently sat back in the chair, content to just look for now. Kevin stood at his side, also gazing at the multiple touch screens and controls. Kate took a seat at the small dining area to keep an eye on her boys while Castle disembarked again to untie the lines holding the boat to the fingerfloats that flanked each side of his single berth slip. Alexis helped him, eager to learn the ropes (pun intended). 

Finally content that everything was taken care of from the dock-side, Castle rejoined his friends and family. He shooed the boys away from the controls so he could turn on the engine and carefully pull out into the fairway. Castle always unconsciously held his breath until the sleek hull of his cruiser was clear of the sharp wooden edges of the waler. As they slowly worked their way down the narrow watercourse, Javier hung on the edge of the captain’s chair and peppered Castle with questions about the cruiser’s D6 engine and other technical specifications. Castle did his best to answer him, though he didn’t have every single number memorized. He was able to quote the exact horsepower of 370. 

They turned into the wider interior channel and reached the entrance channel to the Shinnecock Bay in no time. Beyond the jetties was the wide open ocean. To his relief, the waters of the Atlantic were relatively calm. He navigated out to just beyond the buoys that outlined the edges of the swimming areas and no wake zones. “Come on, Dad,” called Alexis through the open sliding door. “Show them what this girl can do.”

Castle grinned at the two little boys staring up at him enthusiastically. “You want to go fast?”

“Yes, please,” said Kevin. Javier nodded emphatically. 

“Go sit in the back with Alexis so you can feel the wind and the spray,” he suggested. Kate followed her partners back towards the cockpit. Martha and Alexis made room for their companions in the L-shaped booth. Once Castle was satisfied that all of his passengers were seated safely, he pushed the throttle forward and the cruiser lifted out of the water slightly to glide across the glassy surface. He glanced back as much as he dared. Alexis had one hand firmly holding down her sun hat as she beamed at the others. Martha’s hair was protected by a securely tied scarf. Kate’s long amber locks whipped about her face uncontrollably as she returned Alexis’ smile. She had one hand firmly twisted in the back of Kevin’s t-shirt as he knelt backwards on the seat so he could watch the waves break around the side of the boat. Javier also looked out across the water but he could do so from a seated position.

After a few miles, Castle pulled back on the throttle and slowed the boat down to a speed that would allow for conversation. Kate decided they were moving slowly enough for her to release her hold on Kevin and join Castle at the helm. She slid onto his lap and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “You know, it’s kind of hot to see you sitting in the captain’s chair.”

“Well, you’re kind of sexy with your hair all windblown,” replied Castle. Kate grinned at him. She leaned down for a slow kiss. She pulled back teasingly when he tried to deepen the smooch. 

“Tsk, tsk, Mr. Castle. You’ll have to do more than drive a pretty boat to earn anything beyond a kiss.”

“Even if I drive the boat really fast?” Castle slid his hands up her sides, dragging the loose fabric of her linen shirt with them. He leaned forward to press his lips against the smooth, tan skin of her sternum. Kate carded her fingers through his thick hair. 

“Richard, are you watching where you’re going?” called Martha. 

“Yes, Mother!” Castle groaned and pulled back so he actually could see around Kate. His girlfriend giggled at being caught. They had gotten a little off track during his and Kate’s brief interaction. Castle adjusted their bearings so that they didn’t end up in the middle of the ocean. He also set the cruise control to keep them going at an even pace. 

“So, are you wearing a one or two piece bathing suit?” asked the writer, daring to look away from the windshield again. He used one hand to tug at the gaping neck of her shirt. He was starting to think she wasn’t wearing anything at all beneath the soft fabric until he finally found the edge of her bikini top stretching across the swell of her breast. “My dear, there is hardly any fabric to this suit.”

“Your point?” Kate ran the tip of her tongue over her upper lip teasingly. 

“There are little kids on this boat,” Castle mentioned in a strangled voice as he explored the soft expanse of skin with his eyes.

“Neither of whom are blushing virgins,” said Kate in a sultry voice. “Don’t you like it?”

“I very much like it.” Castle shifted in his seat slightly to hide how much he liked the barely there fabric that taunted him with what it did manage to conceal. He forced himself to check on their bearings again.

“Are you two quite finished?” Castle startled and nearly dumped Kate from his lap. He fought to control his racing heart as he looked down at the appalled face of Javier. “I’m pretty sure you have a bedroom for that kind of behavior.”

“You are no fun,” pouted Kate. She slid off of Castle’s lap, much to the writer’s chagrin. “Did you need something?”

“Alexis said that we might be able to swim somewhere around here.”

“Don’t you remember how cold the water was this morning?” asked Kate. 

“That sounds like just what you two need.”

“Can I drown him?” asked Castle plaintively. “This far out to sea, no one would ever find his body.” Kate laughed radiantly. Javier stared at Castle with a deadpan expression. 

“Come on, sweetheart. We’ll go test the temperature of the water.” Kate took Javier’s hand and led him back outside. Castle turned on the autopilot and excused himself to use the restroom.

xXx

The water was still cold. The water temperature gauge at the helm optimistically registered 59 degrees. In spite of her heated exchange a few minutes ago with her boyfriend, Beckett wasn’t all that interested in another cold bath. She and Alexis sat on the floor of the boat in their bathing suits to let their legs dangle over the back and the sun soak into their exposed skin. They were high enough out of the water that only Beckett’s feet and lower legs reached the salty water. The slightly shorter Alexis idly kicked her feet back and forth, sending out tiny waves from their anchored position.

Castle had found a calm spot right at the edge of a swimming area where those who were brave enough to face the cold could enter the water. Martha brought out the ingredients to make cocktails for those old enough to drink and set up shop at the tiny bar. 

“Okay, everyone less than four feet tall, come here,” ordered Castle. He held aloft the new life jackets. “If you’re going to play in or near the water, you have to wear one of these.”

“We know how to swim, Castle,” said Kevin. He leaned against Beckett’s back with his elbow propped on her shoulder for balance. Beckett craned her neck as far as she could to look up at him. All she could see was his profile as he coolly regarded the author. 

“Yes, but there aren’t huge waves to carry you away in my pool,” argued Castle. “Can’t you just humor me?”

“Beckett’s not wearing a life jacket.”

“Oh no, you’re not dragging me into this,” insisted the lead detective. She reached around to poke at him. Instead of moving out of her reach, the blond wrapped both of his arms around her neck in a loose backwards hug.

“Who will you make kissy faces at if Beckett drowns?” Next to her, Alexis giggled at his antics. It was probably too much to hope that her younger partner could be persuaded to hang on someone else. 

“I won’t drown,” Beckett promised him. She grabbed his arm to pull him around to her front. She made sure to keep a tight hold on him - for Castle’s sake, of course - since she now held the squirming, slippery, sunscreen-coated toddler inches from the edge of the boat. The boys had stripped down to just their swim trunks in preparation for swimming. “And wearing a life jacket will give me horrible tan lines.” 

“That’s a small price to pay for your safety,” Kevin informed her seriously. She held his gaze, her own features set in a stoic expression, until he broke first, laughing at his own silliness. Beckett chuckled with him and cuddled him tightly. She wanted to stay on this cruiser forever if it meant they could be free of their problems and all of her loved ones could remain happy and carefree. She looked up at Castle’s poorly disguised sounds of distress at how closely she was holding the toddler to the water. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of Javier, watching his two partners with a small smile. 

“Okay, go get your jacket before poor Castle has a coronary,” said Beckett. She lifted Kevin up so she could set him on his feet at her side. She nudged him towards the writer. He went obediently. Castle seemed much more relaxed once the two junior detectives were buckled into the safety vests. Javier tugged on Castle’s hand to prod the older man into the water as well. 

“Don’t forget your life jacket, Dad,” called Alexis once her father had given in to the boys’ insistent pleading. Castle stuck his tongue out at her but retrieved his own jacket nonetheless. Castle grabbed each of the boys under one arm and launched himself off the side of the boat into the cool water. The kids shouted their dislike of the action and immediately set about retaliating once they returned to the surface. Beckett admonished them to move further away from the boat when the droplets started hitting her and Alexis. All the while, a fond smile remained on her face. 

“Would either of you ladies like a drink?” asked Martha. Beckett and Alexis both twisted around to look at her. 

“I’m fine for now, Grams,” said Alexis. Beckett seconded her statement.

“Suit yourselves,” said the older redhead. She took a seat on one of the barstools with her own fresh margarita. “This is picture perfect weather,” Martha stated. 

Beckett leaned back on her palms and tilted her face up towards the sky. The warm rays felt wonderful. A small tinge of guilt tugged at her when she thought of Marionne Valduerez, whose daughter’s murder remained unsolved while Beckett relaxed on the back of a yacht. She decided to let herself enjoy the rest of that evening and then head back to the city first thing in the morning. She could already tell that the slow day with no new devastating upheavals was helping to clear her mind, which would do more to help the bereaved mother in the long run. 

“You seem happy right now,” said Alexis in a soft voice. Beckett opened her eyes and looked over at the younger Castle. “You and Dad have both been so stressed since last Friday. I’m glad to see that you’re doing better now.”

“Today was a good day.” Beckett conveniently brushed aside her short fight with Castle and the frustrating phone call with Bianca. “It helped a lot to be here with you guys.”

“I get the impression that Dad is starting to enjoy having the detectives around. He claims to be a big kid at heart but I know he likes being a father just as much.”

“He’s good at it.” Beckett sought out her boyfriend, still splashing around in the chilly water. Castle wore a serious expression as he prepared for his next act of extreme water acrobats but beneath it she could see how much fun he was having. Her mind wandered a bit as she imagined the writer playing with a little brown-haired, blue-eyed tyke who called him Daddy instead of Castle. Her heart beat a little harder and she was surprised by how much she wanted her daydream to be real. 

“I think you’re starting to get used to them being little, too,” stated Alexis, drawing Beckett back into their conversation. She smiled softly at the detective. 

“I very much miss their help at the precinct,” said Beckett. “Though, if the two of them weren’t so miserable, I could let myself enjoy this a little more. It’s easy for me - I still have my life. They’ve lost so much.”

“I think they’ve gained a bit, too,” pointed out Alexis. “How often do you see them just let go and have fun?” Kevin and Javier were each smiling widely as they hung on Castle, daring and taunting each other with more and more wild stunts. Apparently their game was engaging enough that they didn’t even notice the coldness of the water. 

“They’re happy in this moment,” said Beckett. “When they’re distracted they might forget about how limited their lives are now, but it always comes back to them quickly. Javier, for example, has grown up feelings for another person that he’ll never be able to act on as a child.”

“Oh yes, his ‘mystery’ crush,” said Alexis. “Dad was complaining to me before we left that you had figured it out and wouldn’t tell him who. I’m surprised he hasn’t figured it out. It’s so obvious to me.”

“You know who Javier likes?” Beckett asked incredulously. 

“Yeah, it took me like two hours to figure it out after Lanie told me that they’d split for good,” said Alexis. “The way they act around each other was a dead giveaway.”

“Huh.” Beckett didn’t like it that Alexis, who had interned in the morgue for just a short while, was so much more informed about her partner’s life than she. 

Alexis seemed to sense Beckett’s exasperation. “I’m sure it was easier for me to see only because I was on the outside looking in. You and Dad are always in the middle of everything and honestly, you really only have eyes for each other most of the time.”

“Yes, I’ve been told that many times,” said Beckett candidly. She shook her head briefly and smirked. “Anyway, Javier’s a bit sensitive about the subject so I wouldn’t tell him that you know, or give your father any help.”

“Of course not,” agreed Alexis. “So, have you guys talked about what you’re going to do if you can’t break the curse?”

“Not really,” said Beckett. “Neither of us wants to admit that’s a possibility. Of course, I’d keep them if they wanted to stay with me. I think Castle has expressed similar sentiments.” Beckett thought for a moment. She knew that Alexis wasn’t always thrilled about her dad’s relationship with the detective, especially when the writer ended up in danger. Alexis had also been the center of Castle’s world for her entire life. Beckett’s entrance into their life had already upset the balance. The addition of two little kids would definitely change things. “Would you be okay with that?”

“I used to think I didn’t want my dad to have any more kids,” admitted Alexis. “I like having his undivided attention. Now, when I see him with the detectives and realize how happy he is being a father, I find that I don’t mind as much. I’m not thrilled, of course, to have to share but I think it’s good for him. I don’t want him to be lonely while I’m at Columbia.”

“No one will ever take your place at the center of Castle’s world,” said Beckett. “I think you’ll always be his leading lady. I just hope you don’t mind me filling a supporting role.”

“I’ll get used to it,” said Alexis with an impish smile. Beckett laughed. 

“So tell me about Columbia. Are you taking advantage of everything college has to offer?”

“I’m trying.” Alexis launched into a story about the interesting people she’d met and how her classes were a new and refreshing challenge compared to her high school subjects. Beckett listened to her diligently while keeping an eye on the guys. With a start she realized that she didn’t think of them as her lover or her partners or her boyfriend’s daughter. At that moment, she was surrounded by her family. 

The feeling remained with her throughout the rest of the afternoon and the spectacular fireworks show. As she stared out at the stars that filled the pitch black sky above the ocean while Castle navigated back to Southampton, she once again pondered the idea of motherhood and having children of her own.

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Castle’s boat is based on the 41 Cantius by Cruiser Yachts.


	25. Second Friday Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein most of the morning is a flashback to Thursday...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Twenty-Five

The sun was barely peaking over the horizon when Beckett slipped into Javier’s room the next morning. Like his partner, the junior detective was still sleeping off yesterday’s late night festivities. Unlike Kevin, however, Javier stirred when Beckett leaned down to press a good-bye kiss to his forehead. 

“You’re leaving?” he asked sleepily. He blinked a few times to clear his vision. 

“I want to join Demming for the interview with the Andersons, the couple with whom Seraphina Valduerez stayed when she was attending Radiant Pines,” said Beckett. 

Javier sat up and pouted. “But today is…” Beckett didn’t need him to finish his statement to understand what he was trying to say. One week ago, Seraphina’s body had been found in the alley and the case that caused them so much heartache had begun. Friday marked the one week anniversary of Javier and Kevin’s transformations. 

“I know, sweetheart.” She squeezed his hand. 

“When are you coming back?”

“Probably very late tonight. Randy Bellefonte left me a voicemail yesterday afternoon. The morgue released his mother’s body and the visitation is this afternoon. Hopefully a few of our prime suspects will be in attendance and I can make a few arrests.”

“I want to go.”

“To the visitation?”

“Yes.”

“Javi, there is no way that is even remotely a good idea,” argued Beckett. “No. There will be who knows how many witches there, including a few who have been looking for the two of you. It would be like walking straight into the lion’s den.”

“I don’t care. That woman ruined my life. She turned me into a _child_ for no better reason than I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I want to see for myself that she’s really gone.”

It sounded a little morbid but Beckett understood. She could fully sympathize with his desire to face the one who had done something so horrible to him. Though there was still hope that Javier and Kevin would be returned to their adult bodies, the transformation back to normal wouldn’t change the fact that they had been cursed for however long it ended up lasting. The boys deserved some measure of closure. Beckett likened it to her loathing of William Bracken. She _needed_ to look him in the eye when she charged him with her mother’s murder or it would never feel like it was over to her. 

But it was so dangerous. 

In the best case scenario, only Randy would be there with some of his non-magical acquaintances. Beckett doubted that the witchy council would fail to send at least one representative. Hopefully that person would be Bianca Castova, with whom Beckett was at least familiar (though also a bit annoyed). In the worst case scenario, the funeral home would be overrun with witches, including Rayford Bellefonte, the necromancer, Gregory Hanson’s associates, and any number of Council members who wanted something from her partners. 

“Beckett.” Javier looked at her intensely with his huge chocolate brown eyes. “You can’t deny us this.”

Beckett ran her fingers through her loose hair. “I’ll talk to Castle,” she promised. “It starts at four.”

Javier was too wide awake then to go back to sleep. He followed Beckett downstairs where Castle was preparing a latte for Beckett to take with her on the road. Whereas Beckett was dressed in pressed slacks and a fitted blouse, Castle still wore his sleep clothes under his well-loved housecoat. The writer looked surprised to see Beckett’s little shadow. 

“You’re up early, kiddo.”

“Kevin and I are going to the witch’s visitation,” Javier informed him without preamble. His tone brooked no room for discussion and his expression dared Castle to argue with him. 

“You’re okay with this?” Castle looked incredulously at Beckett. 

“How can we tell them no?” she asked in a pained voice. “If it were me, I’d want the exact same thing.”

“We can say no by the fact that this is the most idiotic, ridiculous, and perilous idea I’ve heard in a long time,” said Castle. 

“They need closure, Castle,” argued Beckett. 

“What closure? They’re still little kids, for Pete’s sake!”

Beckett felt her hackles rise a little bit at his raised voice. “They deserve the opportunity to face their tormentor one last time, just like I plan to be the one who sends Bracken away for good.”

“I understand that, but the risks far exceed the benefits. There is no way this outing could end well.” Castle silently pleaded with her to think rationally about her plan. Unfortunately, they were on different pages when it came to rationalizing whether or not to let the boys attend the visitation. 

“There are some risks worth taking,” said Beckett levelly. 

“You know what; the three of you are _horrible_ for each other. Especially you two!” Castle pointed his finger at Beckett and then Javier. “None of you possess a single shred of self-preservation. How many times have one of you almost _died_ because you had to take some _risk_ instead of doing the smart thing? And then the only time one of you has enough sense to realize something is a Bad Idea, he gets treated like a social pariah.”

“If you’re not willing to bring them back to the city, I’ll come pick them up myself,” said Beckett angrily. Castle didn’t understand. How could he? He wasn’t a cop and he hadn’t suffered through any life-changing events. Sometimes she wasn’t sure if he thought of solving murders as anything more than a game. She’d held the hands of enough grieving loved ones to know that sometimes the only thing that could start the healing process was seeing the person who did you wrong face to face. She’d been the grieving loved one. 

“No. For once, I am putting my foot down,” said Castle. “No.”

“It’s not your decision to make!”

“Like hell it isn’t,” argued Castle. “ _I’ve_ taken care of them, fed them and clothed them, ever since the transformation. _I’m_ the one who spent hours at the doctor’s with Kevin after the car accident. _I’m_ the one who comforted them after the necromancer attacked us.”

“You didn’t have to do all that,” said Beckett. She hated the tears that were collecting in the corners of her eyes and the lump that had formed in her throat. She didn’t want to fight. “They’re my responsibility.”

“I love them just as much as you do, Kate,” said Castle. He sounded a little choked up as well. “They’re _our_ responsibility. And I’m telling you, I do. Not. Think. This is a good. Idea.” He glanced over her shoulder suddenly and cursed under his breath. She was surprised when he brushed past her, headed towards the arched doorway. She spun around and swore herself when she realized that their fight had woken Kevin. The toddler looked devastated as he stood in the opening, one hand braced against the textured wall. 

Castle picked him up a moment later and hugged him tightly. The writer rocked back and forth as he tried to soothe the trembling boy with hushed consolations. Beckett could barely make out his words. “Shh, it’s all right. Kate and I aren’t arguing over you and Javi. We’re just having a spirited discussion. It’s all right.”

All of the peace that Beckett had gained back the day before felt broken and the ragged edges pressed against her insides. She didn’t think it was possible for them to resolve this without someone she cared for deeply being left very unhappy – not that everyone wasn’t already upset. 

Small arms wrapped around her hips as Javier pressed his face against her stomach. She cupped his head with one hand and rubbed his upper back with the other. She struggled to dam the emotional tide that was slowly overwhelming her. She hated feeling torn and not knowing what to do. Beckett completely understood Javier’s desire to attend the visitation. She also shared Castle’s concern about the dangers that awaited them. 

Castle glanced over towards her as he continued to rhythmically shift his weight from one foot to the other. Kevin was quieter now, thanks to the writer’s administrations. Beckett held his gaze and poured all of her conflicting feelings into her look. When he broke the connection a few seconds later, pressing his lips against the disheveled hair behind Kevin’s tiny ear, his brow was furrowed with deep thought. Still, she couldn’t tell exactly what he was thinking. 

From the living room, the beautifully detailed grandfather clock started to chime the seven o’clock hour. Beckett needed to get going if she was to have enough time to settle in at the precinct before the scheduled interview with the Andersons. As it was, she was going to be over an hour late for the start of her shift. She gently pushed Javier a step back and knelt down so she could address him at his level. “It’s going to be okay, sweetheart. We’ll figure this out.” She found herself repeating that particular mantra a lot these days. Already it was starting to lose its effectiveness. 

“Please come back as soon as you can,” he requested. 

“I will,” she promised. “I’ll be here by nine, at the latest.” He nodded solemnly. Beckett brushed her fingers through his short hair, straightening the dark locks a bit. “Be good.” She gave him one last watery smile before leaning forward to kiss his cheek. She rose to her full height slowly. “Rick, don’t forget about the supplies in the hall closet.”

“Okay,” he said. His voice sound a little rough. He shifted the toddler’s weight to one arm so he could hold his other out to Beckett in an invitation. She slid into his strong embrace and her emotions nearly escaped her tight hold. She took a deep breath. “Please be safe, Kate. Take Demming with you if you insist on going to the visitation.”

Beckett took a deep breath and looked at him hopefully. Castle’s expression as he returned her gaze only held his love and concern for her, despite their argument. The look rekindled her hope that he understood that she was torn between siding with him against the dangers of taking the boys to the funeral home and her duty to honor her partners’ wishes. He had won, for now, but there were still many hours before the final decision had to be made. 

They exchanged a sorrowful kiss. Beckett licked her lips as she pulled away and stepped out of Castle’s hug. She patted Kevin’s back in a silent farewell. She took up Javier’s hand as the group walked to the front door together. On the front stoop she squeezed Javier’s fingers briefly before transferring the care of her partner to the writer. She was glad that despite Javier and Castle being on opposite sides of the line drawn figuratively in the sand, the Hispanic detective still leaned heavily against the author, both of his little hands clasping Castle’s. 

Castle could do nothing but nod to her as she looked back at the trio one last time before ducking down to enter her car. Both Kevin and Javier pulled away slightly to wave morosely at her. She returned the gesture and then pulled her door shut. If she didn’t leave now, she might never.

xXx

Castle slouched down on his couch and rubbed his hands over his face. He had a little time to himself, having deposited the boys in Javier’s room for a few more minutes of rest to make up for their early morning and late night. He’d passed his mother briefly in the hall. Martha had been proud of him for standing his ground against the detectives in the showdown that was apparently heard around the house. Her support did little to lift his spirits. Even if he knew he was right and the only one being responsible at the moment, he hated that everyone was so upset.

His cushion shifted slightly as someone sat down next to him. Castle turned his head slightly so he could see Alexis’ concerned face. “Are you okay, Dad?”

“I’m fine, honey.” 

“And the detectives?”

“They will be.” Castle wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a sideways hug. “I’m so glad that you were blessed with a substantial amount of common sense.”

“We all have our moments,” said Alexis. “You’re not completely without blame, either, you know.”

“Is that so?” Castle blinked inquisitively at her. 

“I distinctly remember having the same argument with you after Kate was shot at the funeral. And then there were the multiple times you stayed with her while in fatal proximity to a bomb.”

“Touché,” he said with a small smile. 

“Do you think that Kevin and Javier will ever be big again?”

“Yes,” said Castle with certainty. He was less certain, though, about when. “Even if we can’t figure out how to undo the spell, I have a feeling they’ll grow up. If the whole point of this was for Seraphina Valduerez to relive her life, it wouldn’t make sense for her to stay a child forever.”

“That’s true,” said Alexis thoughtfully. She grinned to herself. 

“What?” asked Castle when he saw her expression. 

“They’ve always kind of treated me like a little sister,” said the redhead. “I figured out that you have Detective Ryan run background checks on my boyfriends and that someone at the precinct deleted those pictures of Ashley kissing other girls off the internet.”

“I plead the fifth.”

“Uh huh. Anyway, it’s amusing that the roles are reversed now.”

“They’re much better behaved when you’re around,” said Castle. “Javier even tries to censor his sailor talk.”

Alexis giggled. “He’s cute when he’s trying to be all grown up even though he’s so small right now. Don’t tell him I said that.”

“I won’t, because he’d probably take it out on me instead of you.” Castle mock-groaned. “I was thinking I might watch the film from last night to distract myself from all the drama. Interested?”

“Sure. Do we need snacks?”

“But of course,” replied Castle. “You make the kitchen run and I’ll grab the camcorder.”

They parted ways and met back up a quarter of an hour later. Castle hooked the digital recorder up to the television and rewound the movie to the start of his filming on the boat. Alexis settled in against his side again and offered to share the bowl of sliced apples and peanut butter with him. 

Alexis had actually been the one to retrieve the camcorder and start filming the tail end of the guys’ antics in the water. When even the excitement of their games could no longer overcome the chill of the water, Castle had herded the boys towards the rear of the cruiser. He lifted Javier up as far as he could so Kate could pull him the rest of the way onto the boat. They did the same with Kevin. Castle swam around to the side of the boat where a small ladder was affixed and climbed out himself. By the time Martha handed him a large beach towel, Kate had already wrapped her partners in fluffy ones of their own. 

“Brrr,” complained Castle as he rubbed the towel vigorously over his arms and legs. 

“It’s not that cold,” teased Kevin. 

On the screen, Castle motioned for Alexis to hand him the camera. Once he had control of the device, he zoomed in on the toddler. “And what color are your lips, short-stuff?”

“Mm, pink.”

“Try blue.” Castle shifted the viewfinder to focus on Javier. “You’re looking a bit purple, too, kiddo.”

“I’ll survive.” The Hispanic detective gave the camera a serious look. If he was doomed to be filmed during this time of adversity then he would make himself look as macho as possible. 

“Richard, you’re dripping all over the seat,” complained Martha. The image on the screen shuddered violently as the writer shifted to film the small puddle that had formed under his wet swim trunks. 

“It’s a boat, mother. Things are supposed to get wet.”

“Not when the water is the temperature of ice. Shoo, shoo. Go change.”

The camera veered back to where Kate was briskly rubbing the corner of Kevin’s towel over his head to soak up some of the water from his hair. The toddler protested the action, though it was mostly muffled by the towel and his giggles. Javier sidled up against Kate’s side, looking to leech some of warmth out of her slightly pinked skin. “You two want to get dressed, too?” asked Castle. 

“S’warm here,” replied Javier. 

“I’m warm, you’re not,” corrected Kate. “You’re giving me goose bumps.” She left off mothering the toddler so she could push Javier a few inches away and pull his towel up tighter around his shoulders. “You can cuddle when you’re dry and don’t have the body temperature of a corpse.”

Javier snuck a glance at the camera and let out a long-suffering sigh. “I don’t _cuddle_ , Beckett.” 

“I do,” admitted Kevin as he tried to climb into Beckett’s lap. 

“Nuh-uh,” denied the lead detective. “No one gets to cuddle with me if they’re wearing a wet bathing suit.” She caught him under the arms and set him on his feet in front of her seat. “Go, both of you.” She guided Javier to the ground as well. 

“You’re wearing a bathing suit,” said Kevin. He frowned at her. 

“The key word in that last statement was ‘wet.’” Kate turned him around and gently nudged his rear end with her foot. “Tell Castle you need a brush, too.” The blond strands, slightly darkened with moisture, stood out in all directions thanks to Kate’s earlier toweling. The screen went black as Kevin reached up to pat down his wild hair self-consciously while Javier snickered at him. 

A second later the video returned. The sky was darker now as the sun set behind the shadowy outline of Montauk, NY. In the background were numerous other boats, filled with people who had the same plan to watch the fireworks from the water. One of their closest neighbors had a chocolate Labrador who was having a great time jumping in and out of the low-sitting fishing boat. The two mini-detectives crouched at the back of the boat and whistled at the dog, trying to gain its attention. 

Javier and Kevin were each in cargo shorts and a long-sleeve shirt as the missing sun had taken a lot of the warmth with it. The females had all tugged on warmer clothes as well, though they were content to sit in the exterior cockpit and make small talk instead of hanging off the back of the boat. Castle kept the viewfinder directed primarily at the boys, because A, they were the most interesting, and B, they weren’t wearing their life jackets and Castle was terrified one of them was going to lean over too far and fall in. 

Javier laughed out loud when the dog finally swam close enough to their boat to splash them a bit with its wagging tail. Kevin lay on his stomach so he could reach down and pat the Lab’s head. Javier leaned down so he could whisper something into his partner’s ear. Kevin twisted around slightly so he could grin widely at the older boy in response. Castle zoomed in as closely as he could, though the closer picture didn’t do anything to augment the sound. 

The dog’s owner whistled shortly thereafter and the canine swam back to its own boat. Now with no source of entertainment in the dark water, the kids turned towards Castle for amusement. All around them, the other boaters had been lighting up firecrackers. Castle had his own hidden stash of the goods which he offered to bring out. The boys latched onto the idea with delight. The writer handed off the camera to his assistant director, Alexis, and went to find the explosives. Kate beckoned her junior detectives over to her. 

“So, Detective Beckett, are you okay with Mr. Castle’s blatant disregard for the laws of New York?” asked the college student with a laugh. 

“I don’t see any illegal substances aboard this vessel,” said the lead homicide investigator. “What about you, baby boy?”

“Nuh-uh.” Kate carded her fingers through Kevin’s tamed hair as he knelt down to pull at the strap of one of his sandals.

“Javi?”

“It all looks legit to me.”

The camera shifted briefly to center on Martha. The older woman seemed quite content to relax with her third - or was it fourth? - margarita and watch the younger generations interact. A moment later the film panned again, over to where Javier was making his way into the upper salon in search of Castle, because apparently two minutes was much too long to wait for fireworks. 

The author finally returned with a cardboard box. He set it on the bar and pulled out a variety of small explosives. He had bigger ones that were too dangerous to set off in the crowded bay, but there were enough smoke bombs, whistlers, and sparklers to keep them all entertained until the real show started. 

Alexis remained in charge of the camera so Castle could mother-hen the two boys who impatiently grabbed at the fireworks. He started them off with sparklers so he could drag a couple of the bricks from the bottom of the on-board grill and set them up at the back of the boat. The clay units would hopefully protect the floor of the cruiser during their fun. 

Alexis stopped filming when she had had enough of watching and wanted to set off a few firecrackers of her own. The video picked up about thirty minutes later after the first of the Montauk fireworks exploded into the night sky. Castle set the camera on the small table of the L-shaped booth so he could film the kids and still enjoy the show with his girlfriend. He took a seat behind her and leaned back against the cool glass of the enclosed salon. Kate scooted into the V of his legs and rested her head against his shoulder. She pulled her feet up so there would be enough room for the rest of their companions. Javier sat on her feet, watching diligently for the next fireworks. Kevin made himself comfortable between Alexis and Martha. Once the show started in earnest, they were all transfixed on the sky. 

While the rest of the group was distracted by the colorful bursts of light, Kate twisted around slightly to accept a kiss from her boyfriend. The position was too awkward for an extended lip-lock so she eventually settled back against his chest once more. 

“I like the ones that fizzle as they fall,” said Kevin after one such firework faded into the night sky. He was sitting upright as he attentively waited for the next volley. Castle imagined that the Irishman had probably seen three decades worth of the Independence Day celebrations but tonight he acted as if it was his first time. 

“I like the ones with the big bangs,” said Alexis. “You can feel the shockwave travel through you.”

“Isn’t it neat how the sound follows behind the light? It’s like seeing physics in real life.” Kevin turned away from the show briefly so he could look at Alexis. He started briefly when one of Alexis’ favored loud explosions took him by surprise. 

“I wonder why it is that light travels faster than sound,” mused the college student. No one offered up a theory so she returned to watching the show. She and the younger junior detective maintained a running commentary on the various fireworks. Now that he was watching on the video, which had a better angle on Kate’s face than Castle had had the night before, the writer could see the small smile on the lead detective’s face as she looked over at her partner with increasing frequency. The corner of her mouth would quirk up just a bit more each time his reaction reached a certain level of excitement. 

The video recorded their various reactions to the show as it progressed towards its end. Castle picked up the camera again as the finale started, so he could zoom in on each of his loved one’s faces. 

He hadn’t really noticed it the night before, but now that he was watching the recording again, it was easy for him to see the sorrow that fought against the forced smile on Javier’s face. Before, it hadn’t been until the kid had let out a small sigh that the others had been clued into his change in demeanor. “What’s wrong, kiddo?”

“Huh?” Javier looked a bit started to be called out. 

“You look like someone just flushed your favorite goldfish.”

“Oh. Fireworks just always remind me of the military and when I was a soldier.” He turned away from the camera to watch the random fireworks from private residences that had started up now that the main show was over. 

Kevin scooted off his seat so he could climb up next to his partner. “We’ll be big again, Javier,” he said in a small voice. He wrapped his little arms around the older boy. Javier returned the hug awkwardly since Kevin had kind of caught him from the side. Kate leaned forward slightly so she could squeeze the Hispanic detective’s shoulder. 

The video cut one more time. For about two minutes, Alexis had covertly filmed the trio of detectives while Castle navigated back towards Southampton and Martha was below deck. Beckett now sat in the corner of the L-shaped booth with her legs stretched out towards the upper salon. From that vantage point she could see both the starry sky and Castle, seated at the helm. Kevin dozed in her arms, wrapped up in his dried-out towel. Javier was curled up on his side, perpendicular to the lead detective, using his towel as a pillow. 

From the comfort of his suede couch, in the living from of his second home, Castle could clearly see the downward turn of the boys’ mouths as they fought the urge to sleep. No matter how much fun they had, nothing could make them forget that they weren’t meant to be little kids. 

He used the remote to turn off the television and dipped his head to kiss the crown of Alexis’. “Am I doing the right thing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Is it really my place to prevent the boys from going to face Nora Bellafonte one last time?”

“You’re just trying to protect them,” said Alexis. 

“I know, but…”

“But what?” She craned her head up so she could see his face. He smiled sadly at her. 

“Maybe this is something I can’t protect them from.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” said Alexis with a small frown. “You’re the dad, here.”

“I’m not their dad.” Castle sighed. 

“Not in the strictest meaning of the word,” she agreed. “I think that in their shoes, I would want to go, too.”

“Well, we’re all fools it seems.” He patted her shoulder before sitting up. “I’m going to go check on them. They should be up by now.” Alexis gathered up the remains of their snack while Castle made for the stairs.

xXx

Kevin waited idly in the window seat of Javier’s room for his partner to reemerge from the bathroom. Neither of them had had much luck finding any more rest after Beckett’s departure. Even with Javier lying right next to him, the images of fleshless skulls and evil witches danced through his mind every time he closed his eyes. He could tell the same was true for the older boy, though he would be hard-pressed to get Javier to admit it.

Outside, the sky was slightly overcast. As the day progressed the sun would probably burn off the remaining cover but for now the clouds lingered. A steady drizzle from the dark gray clouds would complement the mood of the room perfectly right then. In the distance he could barely make out the translucent wall of magic that surrounded the property on three sides, acting as a figurative cage. While technically they could come and go as they pleased, Bianca had had a point when she told Beckett the wards would only work if they stayed within them. 

Javier finally stepped out of his en-suite bathroom and crossed the room to join his partner. Javier sat down close enough to press his shoulder against Kevin’s, leaving the Irishman slightly squished between the glass and the other detective. He didn’t mind. The physical contact reminded him once more that he wasn’t in this alone.

“You doing okay?” asked Javier in a low voice. Kevin knew he was referring to the aftermath of Castle and Beckett’s fight. 

“Yeah.” It was kind of true. He didn’t feel like crying anymore, at least. He still hated the fact that his friends had been fighting, and over him and Javier, no less. “Can we just fast forward to when this is all over?” 

“I wish.” Javier picked at a wrinkle in Kevin’s sleep shorts. “Why are you wearing your lucky pajamas again?” 

Kevin spared a glower for the stupid shamrocks littering his t-shirt. “I don’t recall getting ready for bed last night and Castle’s pea-brain thinks this outfit is hilarious.” 

“It is kind of funny.” Javier poked at one of the green caricatures of the lucky leaf located just below the curve of Kevin’s ribs. The smaller boy jumped at the ticklish sensation and scrambled to push Javier’s hand away. Javier laughed faintly at his reaction. Kevin liked the sound of his best friend’s good humor, even if it came at his expense. 

Unfortunately, the slight uplift in spirits didn’t last very long. The two fell into a forlorn silence. Kevin watched the overnight clouds continue to burn away as the sun climbed higher over the rolling ocean waves. He had to concentrate on tracking the density of the rabbit-shaped cloud hovering just over the distant buoy. Otherwise, his thoughts would return to the curse and all of its associated drama. Next to him, Javier frowned as he lost himself in his own thoughts. 

Kevin wasn’t sure what had instigated the shouting match between Castle and Beckett. He had woken up towards the end and his arrival had effectively ended the fight. He knew it had something to do with going back to the city. “Javi?”

“Hm?”

“Why were they fighting about us going into the city?”

Javier sighed. “The morgue released Nora Bellefonte’s body. There is a visitation this afternoon, which Beckett is going to. I think we should go, too. I want to see for myself that she’s really gone.”

“Oh.” Kevin rolled the idea around in his mind. Personally, he hoped he never met another witch again in his life, except for the one who would return him to normal. On the other hand, he understood Javier’s desire to confront their tormentor one last time. It would be better if she was alive so they could ask her the most pressing question: _why_? Through Beckett’s investigation, the story was slowly coming out but it would never be the same as hearing it directly from the witch. 

The more he thought about it, the more Kevin wanted to go to the visitation, as well. It could be that the only thing he would achieve is the ability to put away his false hope that she wasn’t really dead, and would suddenly spring up and have a counter-spell to make this mess all better. He assumed that her son, Randall Bellefonte, would be there. Maybe even the witch who had healed his injuries after the car accident would be present. Kevin wanted to know why it was so difficult to come up with a cure. Beckett was a trustworthy messenger but the Irishman wanted to confront these people himself. 

“I want to, too,” he said quietly. Javier lifted his chin so he could regard his partner. Kevin searched the chocolate-colored eyes just as he knew Javier was searching his own blue ones. Eventually Javier frowned and shifted his gaze to the side, looking out the window. Maybe he was equating the barely visible wards to a gilded cage as well. 

“Castle’s right. It would be very dangerous. We don’t know who else might be there.”

“I know what you’re thinking, Javi. It’s not okay for you and Beckett to risk your lives and leave me behind. You can’t protect me from everything.”

“I wish I could.” The corner of Javier’s mouth lifted slightly and he nudged Kevin in the side again. “Though, I don’t want to get suspended if you go tattle on us to Gates.” 

Kevin rolled his eyes. At least Javier could joke about _that_ disaster now. It had been a sore subject between them for far too long. “I would like to say good-bye.”

“Good-bye?”

“Well, maybe just good riddance,” amended the younger detective. 

“Yeah, me too.”

“We should bring it up to Castle again.”

“He got so angry,” said Javier in a small voice. “He’s very much against it.”

Kevin wondered at that. Javier didn’t usually dance around people’s feelings. He was not afraid of confrontation or telling people exactly what he thought. He especially didn’t back down from Castle, even now that the writer physically towered over them. Kevin didn’t like making his friends upset, either, but he knew Castle would forgive them and they’d move on. He’d promised to stay with them until this curse was lifted or wore itself out. Families fight but they remain families. 

Though… Javier’s father had bailed on his family when Javier was not much smaller than right now. Kevin had learned enough about the Espositos’ difficult life from his time spent with the extended family. Javier wasn’t always forthcoming with stories from his past, but the detective’s sisters and older relatives loved to regale the curious Irishman with stories from Javier’s troubled childhood.

Kevin leaned more heavily against the older boy. Javier shifted to accommodate him. “I think Castle is just scared that something bad will happen. With our luck, it probably will. Maybe if he knows how important it is, he will reconsider.”

“Maybe.” Javier sounded very unconvinced. 

As if the writer knew they were talking about him, Castle knocked briefly on the partially open door before entering the room. Kevin always wondered why people bothered knocking if their intention was to barge in whether an invitation to enter was offered or not. 

Castle looked tired and stressed, standing there in his housecoat and slippers. Kevin hated what this curse had done to their group, even those who weren’t directly touched by the magic. The man really looked like he could use a hug instead of another “spirited discussion”. 

“Hey guys,” Castle said after a few seconds of staring at them. “Did you get any sleep?”

“No,” replied Javier in the same small voice from before. 

“Me either.” Castle awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck and glanced around the room as if the various furnishings would inspire his next statement. He didn’t seem to get much help. He approached the window seat and crouched down before it. “Do you really want to go to the visitation?”

Kevin wasn’t sure if Castle had intended to direct the question to both of them but he was looking at Javier, so the blond held his peace. Javier nodded solemnly.

“Kevin?”

Oh, so it had been for both of them. “Yes,” he said clearly. 

“I still think this is a very foolish idea,” Castle said. “I’m going to insist that Beckett bring as much backup as possible.”

“Really?” asked Javier. He sat up a little straighter, which forced Kevin to sit up as well. 

“I do understand why you want to go,” said the author. “We’ve learned that being in the Hamptons isn’t really any safer than walking into the proverbial lion’s den, so we should take advantage of this opportunity.”

“Thank you,” said Javier. His voice sounded a little rough. Castle smiled fondly at him and patted his knee. He pushed himself back into a standing position with a slight groan. As he smoothed out his sweatpants, Kevin leaned forward to whisper in Javier’s ear, “Well, that was easy.” Javier smirked faintly. 

“Come on, we all need to get dressed.” Castle offered a hand to help Javier off the padded bench. He next held out his hand to Kevin. Even after he was standing steadily on the floor, Kevin didn’t release Castle’s fingers. The writer squeezed back. 

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out Seamus’ and Jon’s Twitter accounts – they each posted a video featuring their bromance and [in]ability to follow directions. 
> 
> Thank you to my amazing beta-reader, TXMedic. She does a great job, not only catching my numerous grammatical mistakes, but also saying just the right thing to trigger a new idea for the story.


	26. Second Friday Late Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Beckett is confronted about her spotty attendance at work...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Twenty-Six

If Beckett thought that her morning couldn’t get any worse, she was sorely mistaken. During the two hour drive back into the city, which stretched out into two and a half hours when she hit the tail end of the morning rush hour traffic, she replayed the argument in her mind. She thought of a hundred different things she should have said to convince Castle to bring the boys down for the visitation. By the time she pulled into the precinct’s parking garage, she was even more frustrated than when she’d left the Hamptons. She made a mental note to call her boyfriend during her lunch break to see if any of her new arguments would get through to him. 

She stepped off of the elevator on Homicide’s floor at 9:46 am, leaving her fourteen minutes until the scheduled meeting with the Andersons. Beckett dropped down into her desk chair without even bothering to stow away her purse and fired up her computer. She had to move a thick stack of files off of her mouse pad so she could navigate her list of backlogged emails. Fortunately, she didn’t see anything that had to be dealt with that instant but she would definitely be spending an hour or so trying to catch up. 

Despite Demming’s positive status report yesterday, the murder board didn’t look much different from when she’d left on Wednesday. Ryan and Esposito were much better about keeping the board up to date and even Castle helped out regularly. It seemed that her temporary team wasn’t as diligent. 

At 9:53 am, Captain Victoria Gates stopped before her desk. “Detective Beckett, I had started to wonder if you were planning to come in today at all.”

“Yes sir,” replied Beckett. She was proud that for as hard as it felt like she was clenching her teeth together, her tone didn’t sound completely annoyed. “I had a personal issue to deal with. It won’t happen again.”

“Speaking of your slew of personal issues this past week, I’d like to have a word with you in my office.” Beckett imagined that the conversation would be nothing short of painful for the lead detective. Gates didn’t often frown that deeply. 

“I have a meeting at ten. Can we meet after then?” Beckett pushed back slightly from her desk and sorted through the stack of files. She hoped against hope that one of them was the information on the Andersons. 

“The interview with the Andersons?” Beckett nodded in confirmation. “I find it less than commendable that we are just now reaching out to the legal guardians of the murder victim, a full week after her body was found.” Beckett cringed internally and tried to come up with a good excuse for her poor performance on this case. She wasn’t ready to give Gates the reason for it. 

In the end, the most straightforward response was just to admit that she’d dropped the ball. “You’re completely right, sir. I let my own issues get in the way of doing my job and the Valduerez family is suffering for that.” The Valduerez family _wasn’t_ suffering - they thought Serafina had died eight months ago - but that little tidbit was too closely related to the witchcraft aspect of her case for Beckett to share. 

Gates’ expression softened minutely. She let her crossed arms drop to her sides and subtly shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I know that you’re not used to functioning without your ‘team’. Instead of using their absence as an excuse to fall behind, you should treat it like an opportunity to show what you can really do on your own.” 

Beckett reminded herself that Gates had no idea why this was so hard for the detective. She squashed down her disrespectful retort. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Come see me directly after your interview. I’ll be watching from Observation.” 

Beckett nodded sharply. She plucked up the file with “Anderson” printed on the tab and shoved it under her arm, along with a legal size notepad. 9:57 am. She spotted Demming leading an older man and woman towards the Interrogation Room. She had just enough time to dart into the break room to grab a bottle of water. She’d have to do without a self-made latte for now. 

“I’m glad you made it,” said Demming when Beckett met him outside the impersonal room. 

“I had some trouble getting out the door this morning,” she replied in a rushed whisper. “I need to ask you for help with something once we’re through with the Andersons.” Demming gave her a curious look but could not ask her for more information as Beckett pushed open the door and strode towards the metal table. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, I’m Detective Beckett. I’m leading the investigation into the murder of Serafina Valduerez. This is my partner, Detective Demming.” The two detectives each shook hands with the two “people of interest”. Beckett sat down in her hard metal chair and set the notepad on top of the closed file. She held her pen at the ready over the lined paper. “I understand that you are the legal guardians of Serafina Valduerez.”

“Yes,” said Mr. Anderson. The man had snow white hair and a bent posture. His skin was slightly mottled and a series of dark bruises dotted his lower arms. Deep wrinkles were etched into his face and his right hand shook slightly when he reached for his glass of water. Mrs. Anderson was virtually the same age as her husband and looked equally frail. Beckett wondered how they had become so deeply embroiled in this retrogression mess. They did not look up to the task of looking after an eight-year-old who _wasn’t_ in thick with a bunch of witches. 

“How long has she been in your care?”

“Six months,” answered Mrs. Anderson. 

“You told the officer who interviewed you in your home that Serafina often visited her aunt who lived north of the city. Is that true?” asked Demming. 

“Yes.”

“For the record, what is the name of this aunt?”

“Nora Bellefonte,” said Mr. Anderson. 

“Are you aware that Ms. Bellefonte recently passed away?”

“Yes.” Each of the answers were succinct and emotionlessly delivered. The two people across the table would have seemed almost robotic if not for the obvious fatigue that tainted their voices. 

“Did you ever meet Ms. Bellefonte in person?”

“No. Serafina’s social worker would pick her up and bring her back,” said Mrs. Anderson. 

“Serafina’s social worker?” Demming leaned back in his chair. “How did you come to be Serafina’s legal guardians?”

“We applied to be foster parents though Children and Family Services.” Mr. Anderson finally showed a bit of emotion when he took a nervous swallow from his glass. 

“I’ve spoken with OCFS,” said Demming. “They have no case file for a Serafina Valduerez. Who did you say was her social worker?”

“I, uh… I don’t understand.” Mrs. Anderson wrung her hands together.

“Serafina Valduerez was not a warden of the state,” said Demming. “Who arranged for you to foster her?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Demming leaned forward now and braced his weight on his forearms. “How could you not know the name of the social worker who handled Serafina’s case?”

“It’s, um, complicated.”

“It seems pretty simple to me.”

“Okay,” said Beckett. She had no patience for dead end lines of questioning. “Let’s ignore the fact that you’re lying to us about how you met Serafina. We have plenty of witnesses from Radiant Pines who claim that Serafina was known to steal from the other students and the staff. We also know that Serafina was seen at events from which large amounts of valuable jewelry were discovered missing. Were you aware of her predilection for theft?”

“No.” The response was anything but certain. 

“Then explain to me the large cash deposits into your savings account which correspond to a percentage of profits from multiple large jewelry thefts. These same thefts are the ones where Serafina was seen.” Beckett adopted her own intimidating pose. The older couple looked at each other worriedly. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Mr. Anderson at length. 

Demming slapped his hand down on the table. “You never questioned why someone would put thousands of dollars into your account?” Mr. Anderson squirmed and his wife cupped her wrinkled hand over her mouth as she stared at the tabletop. 

“Who are you trying to protect?” asked Beckett. “Is it Gregory Hanson?” At the man’s name, both of their interviewees turned nearly white. Beckett felt a small flicker of victory. “We’ve already spoken with Mr. Hanson. He admitted to employing Valduerez to steal jewelry and other valuable trinkets for him. We know the deposits into your account are from him. You don’t seem like the type of people who would get caught up in this type of scam, so why don’t you tell me the truth about Serafina?”

“We can’t,” said Mrs. Anderson with a half-sob. 

Beckett put down her pen and folded her arms across her chest. “A little girl was murdered. That little girl was entrusted to you for safety and support. You let her down in life. Don’t let her down in death.”

“She wasn’t.” This time Mrs. Anderson cried out fully. “She wasn’t a little girl. She was a monster.” Her husband patted her arm ineffectually. Mrs. Anderson struggled to bring her emotions back under control. 

“Unless you tell us what you know about Serafina and her involvement with Gregory Hanson, we have no choice but to hold you here for suspicion of conspiracy to commit theft,” said Demming. “There’s also the question about whether you had anything to do with her murder.”

“Please,” begged Mr. Anderson. “We had nothing to do with her murder. Serafina was a bad person. She pretended to be a little girl so she could get close enough to people to steal their possessions. Once we learned the truth, we tried to get away from her, but Mr. Hanson threatened us. He threatened our family, saying he would turn them into child-monsters as well.”

“Why didn’t you tell us that from the start?” asked Demming. 

“You don’t understand what kind of man Mr. Hanson is,” said Mr. Anderson.

“We understand more than you think,” said Beckett. “Someone will be in shortly to take your statement.” The husband and wife duo clasped their hands together fearfully as the two detectives stood from the table to take their leave. In the hallway outside the Interrogation Room, Gates met them with a questioning look. 

“What do you think they meant by saying Serafina Valduerez was ‘pretending’ to be a little girl? She was eight years old.”

“I don’t know,” lied Beckett. “They’re clearly distressed about something Greg Hanson said to them and they may not be thinking clearly right now. We can try to talk to them again when they’ve calmed down some.” Gates did not look appeased by Beckett’s answer but the lead detective wasn’t about to explain the real meaning behind the comment. 

“If you have a minute then, I’d like to speak with you now.” Her tone and posture implied that Beckett should start walking towards the captain’s office, whether or not she had a minute to spare. Beckett trekked across the floor confidently. She held a grudging respect for the captain, which had been hard won by the older cop, but Beckett had never been one to simply bow down to others. 

Gates closed the door to her office after following Beckett inside. “Please, have a seat.” Gates motioned towards one of the chairs before her desk. Beckett sat down on the edge of the seat. The captain sat down as well and regarded the younger woman closely for a long moment. Beckett refused to squirm. “I know there’s a lot you’re not telling me, detective. I know that you like to keep your secrets but when it comes to the safety and well-being of the police officers under my direction, I won’t stand for it.”

“Sir?”

“Where have Detectives Esposito and Ryan been for the past week?”

“They’re out on medical leave. You approved the requests,” replied Beckett. 

“Which you submitted on their behalves.”

“Yes. As their direct supervisor, it is not outside my authority to pass along such paperwork.”

Gates lifted her reading glasses from the chain around her neck and balanced them on the tip of her nose. “It says here that they needed the week to recover from complications related to a poisoning. This is the same poisoning that required a trip to the emergency room after speaking with a suspect, Ms. Nora Bellefonte.”

“Yes, sir.”

“My understanding is that they were both released that same night and that you and Castle were the self-appointed persons in charge of monitoring them for the next few hours.”

“That’s true.”

“What is odd to me is that during a time when you might have needed your ‘partner’ the most, he’s been noticeably absent from the precinct. Mr. Castle obviously was aware of Detectives Esposito’s and Ryan’s temporary disability.”

“Castle has family in town.” Beckett pushed forward with that explanation. “He’s been at his second home in the Hamptons since Tuesday.”

“Yes, I’m aware that someone broke into Mr. Castle’s home and then tried to kidnap his relatives,” said Gates. “I still find it hard to believe that the man who called in a favor from the mayor in order to continue to shadow you would simply up and go on vacation when you clearly need his assistance.”

Beckett shrugged. She didn’t know how to respond to that. 

Gates looked at her skeptically. “Anyway, I’m more concerned about your actual partners. The hospital to which they were admitted last Friday confirms that they were released that evening and have not been readmitted since. So where have they been?”

“I assume they’ve been at home,” said Beckett. 

“You haven’t spoken with either of them since Friday?”

“I have, briefly.”

“Then it seems you are the only one who has,” stated Gates. “While you were out yesterday, attending to _personal_ issues, a Mrs. Deirdre Flannigan tried to reach you. When you were unavailable, the call was transferred to me.”

Beckett thought the name sounded familiar but she couldn’t place it immediately. Her confusion was cleared up when Gates continued by telling her that Mrs. Flannigan was concerned that she hadn’t been able to contact her brother about their Fourth of July plans. “Shit,” swore Beckett under her breath but Gates heard her clearly. 

“If Detective Ryan is so ill that he cannot even speak with his sister, perhaps he should still be at a hospital.”

“I… I…” Beckett cursed herself for stuttering. “I don’t know how to explain…”

“So you do know where Ryan is, at least?” Gates leaned forward with narrowed eyes. Beckett wished that her poker face had picked a better time to be non-existent. 

“I know where they both are,” muttered Beckett. Gates must have read the genuine concern in Beckett’s eyes and the guilty hunch of her shoulders. The captain backed off slightly. 

“My main concern is that the two of them are safe and well - as well as one can be who is suffering from ‘complications due to poisoning’.”

“They are,” replied Beckett. 

“Is that why your attendance here has been spotty and your dedication to this case almost non-existent?”

“Yes.”

“Detective Beckett, I know that you and your partners are fond of keeping each others’ secrets and that the three of you think I am some overlord dictator who can’t be relied upon when things become difficult. I do care very much for the rules and regulations that were put into place to protect both the public and the officers who serve them, but that does not mean I am unreasonable. If you’re struggling with something, you can come to me.”

Beckett slowly exhaled. The idea of telling her captain everything was oddly appealing. Gates already knew that Beckett, Ryan, and Esposito were keeping something big from her. To continue to plead ignorance would only damage their tenuous trust for each other. But what could Beckett possibly tell her that wouldn’t sound completely insane? Knowing Gates, she would take such a far-fetched story as adults being turned into little kids by witchcraft as an insult to her intelligence and a gross lack of respect on Beckett’s part. 

This is where Castle’s ability to tell stories would have been very useful. She wished that the writer was there to help her decide what to do and how to do it. 

“Sir, I don’t know how to explain the situation to you without sounding completely crazy,” admitted Beckett. 

“Try me,” said Gates. The edge was back in her voice. 

Beckett’s phone chimed with a text message. She dared to pull it out of her pocket and read the brief note. It was from Castle. Her spirits instantly lifted when she read the words. “Captain, if you don’t mind, I’d like to show you rather than tell you what’s been going on. Can we meet again this afternoon?”

“I’d like to know now,” insisted the older woman. 

“It won’t make any sense right now,” said Beckett. “I need to make a couple of phone calls but I promise that you’ll have an explanation for the detectives’ disappearances and why this homicide investigation seems to be going so poorly.” The detective stood up. “Will two-thirty work for you?”

“No. What am I supposed to tell Detective Ryan’s family while you’re off gallivanting around, attending to some slew of personal issues instead of doing your job?” Beckett cringed internally. Thankfully, this time her expression remained stoic. 

“Tell them that Ryan is fine. Maybe his phone died and he lost its charger. If anyone from Esposito’s family calls, he’s fine, too. I’ll insist that the guys contact their families myself.”

“That’s not good enough, Detective Beckett.”

“I know, but you’ll understand if you just let me explain.”

“I’ve been waiting for an explanation since you entered my office.”

“Captain, I know this is unconventional and not quite according to the book-”

“We’re not even in the same library,” interrupted Gates irritably.

“I just need a couple hours. I promise you, Detectives Ryan and Esposito are nothing more than remiss at keeping in contact with their families. I wouldn’t lie to you about that.” Beckett did her best to convey her trustworthiness to the captain through her posture and her beseeching stare. 

“Fine,” agreed Gates grudgingly. “I will expect a full explanation at that time.” Gates probably didn’t relent because Beckett had done anything to convince her that waiting would be worthwhile. Instead, the captain knew her star homicide detective well enough to discern that Beckett wasn’t going to back down, either. 

“Yes, sir.” Beckett darted from the oppressive office as quickly as possible. She started composing her response to Castle’s text message before she even reached her desk. 

**Richard Castle: I’ll bring the boys down for the visitation. Where to meet you?**

**Reply: Precinct at 14h30. It’s time to tell Gates.**

Beckett shoved her phone into her pocket and grabbed her purse. She nearly bumped into Demming as she quickly turned around to head for the elevator. “Beckett, is everything all right?”

“About the same as ever.” Beckett tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. 

“You mentioned that you need my help with something,” said the robbery detective. “What is it?”

“We need to go somewhere more private,” said Beckett. “I was going to see if Lanie wanted to grab lunch. Join us?”

“Okay.”

“Great. I need to make a phone call. I’ll meet you downstairs.” Demming nodded slowly. Beckett ignored his concerned look and brushed by him to head for the stairs. The non-motorized means of vertical movement were rarely used so she felt like she had enough privacy to call Randy Bellefonte. He answered after the third ring.

Beckett kept the conversation short and very one-sided. She informed him that she was coming to the visitation with additional police officers. She intended to arrest Rayford Bellefonte and anyone else who might have something to do with her two murders or the attacks on her partners. He would be wise to not give anyone on her list warning of her intentions. The doctor dazedly responded to her hard line assertions. Less than two minutes later Beckett ended the call, purposefully failing to inform him that her partners would also be with her. She was gambling that by showing up without warning, the element of surprise would last long enough for Kevin and Javier to get in and out before anyone made a grab for them. 

Feeling re-energized, Beckett continued down the stairs all the way to the lower level where the morgue was located. Demming waited for her in the hallway outside of Lanie’s domain. Beckett glanced about herself to make sure no one was within hearing range before she made her request. 

“There is a visitation for Nora Bellefonte this afternoon at four,” said the homicide detective. “I plan to go there in hopes of arresting her older son, Rayford, and possibly finding her alleged murderer, Winston Kennedy.”

“Won’t there be a bunch of witches there?”

“I don’t know,” said Beckett. “I was hoping you’d be willing to go with me, in case I need backup.”

“Of course,” said Demming. 

“There’s more. Castle is driving in from the Hamptons. R and E are going with us.”

“What? Aren’t half of the witches in New York trying to steal them from you?” Demming’s frown rivaled Gates’. 

“All the more reason for backup,” said Beckett. “I know it sounds foolish and stupid, but think about it from their point of view. Today is the one week anniversary of Nora Bellefonte turning them into babies. If I can’t figure out a way to undo this spell, then she’s effectively ruined their lives. They need some kind of closure and this will be their last chance to look into the face of the one who wronged them.”

“I can tell that you’ve already made up your mind,” said Demming. Still, he sounded averse to the idea. He shifted his weight awkwardly. 

“Thank you. I’ll owe you one.”

“I think you’ll owe me more than one,” mumbled Demming. Beckett smiled shyly at him. 

They entered the morgue together and found Lanie just finishing her pre-lunch routine. “Hey, girl. Demming,” she greeted. The ME dried off her hands and dropped the towel to the side of the sink. “I thought you’d still be in the Hamptons.”

“I wanted to be here when Demming interviewed Valduerez’s supposed legal guardians,” replied Beckett. “We were just about to grab lunch. Would you like to join us?”

“I’d love to. I want to hear all about how little Javier and Kevin are doing. Does Castle have any brown hair left?”

“A few strands,” replied Beckett with a small laugh. 

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, TXMedic, my wonderful beta-reader who makes me look good.


	27. Second Friday Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Gates finds out about the spell...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Twenty-Seven

Starting at two o’clock, Beckett found herself anxiously waiting for the arrival of her partners and boyfriend. Each time the elevator dinged and the doors slid open she would twist around in her seat to see who stepped out of the metal box. How had she never noticed how often people came and went? After the fourth time of being disappointed when a precinct employee exited the elevator, intent on completing a task for which Beckett did not know or care, the homicide detective forced herself to stare at her computer monitor. Her concentration lasted long enough for her to be discouraged by the miniscule progress she’d made on checking her emails and then her mind was off running again, towards anything else.

Beckett raised her eyes so she could just see over the top of her monitor. Across the short length of the bullpen and the narrow hall was the door to Gates’ office. The captain was within, reading some paperwork with her blue-framed glasses balanced precariously on her nose. The detective tried to imagine how the meeting would go. Could the captain ignore what was right in front of her and accuse Beckett of trying to make her a fool? Or would Gates be open-minded enough to accept the truth and turn out to be a valuable ally?

Beckett hunched her shoulders a bit and refocused on her inbox. Gates had proven on many occasions to be less than sympathetic to the detectives’ plights. The shining example was refusing to let Beckett investigate her shooting at Montgomery’s funeral and her mother’s murder. Suspending her and Esposito last year had definitely put a wrench in their burgeoning relationship. Then, there was the time that Gates had forced her to allow the documentary crew to follow her around during the investigation of Swann’s murder. And the time Gates forced her to stay in New York while her boys went down to Atlantic City. What about that time when… Beckett shook her head. It was pointless to rehash every time she and Gates had butted heads. 

On the other hand, the captain had taken it upon herself to create some kind of plausible deniability with respect to Beckett and Castle’s relationship. She’d been an unlikely collaborator on multiple occasions. Gates was definitely no Montgomery, but Beckett doubted anyone could ever be as good of a skipper as the late captain. She swallowed thickly as a brief wave of grief washed over her at the memory of the older man. If Montgomery had still been their sterling leader when everything had gone down a week ago, Beckett would have turned to him first, not last. 

Beckett was so deep in her thoughts that she didn’t hear the elevator sound. It was the barely perceptible shift in the atmosphere of the bullpen that alerted her to the arrival of someone of interest. She sat up and glanced around. As if she was tuned into his very spirit, Beckett immediately located Castle in the crowd. 

Castle was a novelty that had worn off a long time ago at the 12th precinct. His presence had become commonplace over the past five years and none of the regular staffers paid him any attention. Beckett supposed that his return after the week-long absence might have drawn some of the curious looks. Really though, it had to be the two little boys with him that garnered all the attention. 

The staff and police officers of the 12th were all professionals and did a good job shielding their interest in the visitors. If Beckett wasn’t so nervous about her upcoming meeting with Gates she probably wouldn’t be imagining that everyone was staring at her boys. 

For his part, Castle ignored the gazes, real or imagined, and strode across the floor like it wasn’t strange for him to show up with such small companions. Supported by his left arm was Kevin, who had curled up against the writer’s chest and was doing his best to turn invisible. Clutching Castle’s right hand was Javier, who kept his head bowed such that his black newsboy cap disguised as much of his face as possible. Beckett guiltily remembered the unease of her partners when confronted by a group of their colleagues in the lobby to Castle’s building. They were embarrassed by their transformed bodies and didn’t want to be recognized by their peers. Considering how easily Demming had picked out Ryan that afternoon, Beckett knew her partners had a legitimate concern.

“They look like they’re headed for the gallows.”

Beckett nearly jumped a foot in the air and her heart beat madly in her chest. She snapped her head around to gape stupidly at Demming. The robbery detective looked equally surprised by her reaction to his softly spoken comment. Her face burned as she leaned down to retrieve her pen which had gone flying to the floor. She returned to her upright sitting position just as Castle reached her desk. 

“Are you okay, Kate?” the writer asked.

“Yes.” Beckett wished she could wash the red out of her complexion by sheer will. “You’re early.” Deflecting would probably help Castle forget about her moment of gracelessness, right? 

“Traffic was light,” he said dismissively. “Demming.”

“Castle.” The two men and ex-competitors regarded each other coolly for a moment. Beckett mentally applauded Demming for not greeting her partners by name. He did, however, look at them inquisitively. Beckett was accustomed to seeing her junior detectives as small children so she often forgot that it was still a jarring experience for those who knew them as adults. 

Javier braved leaving Castle’s side to make his way to Beckett’s. She brushed her thumb under his right eye as she cupped his cheek. “You doing okay, sweetheart?”

“Do we have to tell Gates?” he asked in a whisper. 

“I think it’s for the best. She’s suspicious that something more is going on than just you two being poisoned,” replied Beckett in an equally low voice. She moved her hand up to tug slightly on the bill of his cap to straighten it out. The new felt material was still stiff under her fingertips. Combined with his black dress slacks and loafers, the dark cap accented his warm complexion. The deep burgundy of his short-sleeve button down made his dark brown eyes even more vibrant where they were stared up at her from beneath thick lashes. 

Kevin was similarly attired in new clothes appropriate for a funeral-type occasion. His skinny little knees and shins were visible below the hem of his charcoal-colored shorts. He had on new faux-leather oxfords with lopsidedly tied laces. His short-sleeve button down was a dark royal blue, which she imagined would have highlighted his eyes if they weren’t closed. Castle rested his chin tiredly on top of the differently styled Gatsby cap that hid the toddler’s pale hair. Beckett’s favorite part of the Irishman’s outfit was the black sweater vest that reminded her so much of Grown Up Ryan that she choked up for a second. 

“Shall we?” asked Castle. Beckett followed his sightline to where Gates stood framed in the doorway to her office. Her displeasure at the manner of Castle’s return was clear in the hard set of her features. The writer tapped Javier’s shoulder to gain his attention before offering his hand again. His long fingers completely engulfed the six-year-old’s tiny digits. 

“Do you need any backup for _this_ encounter?” asked Demming with a hint of irony in his voice. 

“I’ll take a hoard of witches over the captain any day,” mumbled Castle. Demming cracked a half-smile and shook his head. 

“Just shout if things start going sideways.”

“It’s going to be fine,” said Beckett in exasperation. Kevin’s little nose was crinkled as he tried to squeeze his eyes closed even more tightly. Unfortunately, just because he couldn’t see any of them didn’t mean that most of the other people in the area weren’t covertly staring at him. 

Beckett led the way to Gates’ office. At the door, she allowed the guys to precede her into the small room. She hadn’t even finished closing the door by the time the captain started scolding Castle. “Personally, I don’t think a police precinct is the place for an infuriating writer. It is most definitely not the place for small children.”

“Captain, he has a good reason for bringing them here,” stated Beckett. She could still feel the weight of a dozen officers’ inquiring looks on her back. She motioned towards the open mini-blinds. “May I?”

Gates waved dismissively at the windows. “I’d like to know what you consider a good reason, Mr. Castle.”

Beckett hurried to finish securing their privacy. “Sir, let me explain.”

“Please.” The captain sat down in her chair and raised her eyebrows expectantly. Castle directed Javier to the second chair while he remained standing, still holding the toddler. Beckett claimed the same chair she’d occupied during her first meeting with Gates. In the relative privacy of the office, Kevin uncurled slightly and finally opened his eyes so he could watch the exchange. 

“The comment that Mrs. Anderson made about Serafina not really being a little girl is true. She’s a forty-eight year old woman with a history of small crime and drug abuse.”

“Detective, I saw the photographs myself,” argued Gates. 

“I know.” Beckett took a deep breath. “The second murder victim, Nora Bellefonte, who supposedly was Serafina’s aunt, was one of the people we visited last Friday. Her home was just down the street from Serafina’s mother’s home. While Castle and I interviewed Ms. Valduerez, Ryan and Esposito interviewed Bellefonte.” 

“That’s the interview where your partners were poisoned?” 

“Not exactly. It turns out that Bellefonte did something to Serafina to make her appear like a small girl.”

“This sounds like something I’d read in one of Castle’s books,” said Gates disbelievingly. “People are not turned into other things in real life.” 

“Sir, take a good look at them,” urged Beckett. She motioned towards Javier and Kevin. 

“I don’t have time for games and neither do you, detective,” said Gates. She crossed her arms over her chest. Still, Beckett thought she could sense cracks in the older woman’s stony façade. The captain might not be buying her story about Valduerez being an adult in disguise, but she was nevertheless curious about Castle’s charges. Who wouldn’t want to take a closer look at the boys? They were adorable, especially in their little funeral clothes. 

“It’s not a game,” replied Beckett. “You know these two.” Beckett didn’t want to simply tell Gates that her junior partners had been turned into babies. She wanted the captain to come to the realization herself. 

Gates frowned and gave Beckett a dark look. She turned next to regard Javier, who sat stiffly in his chair and did his best to not appear intimidated by the unhappy captain. Beckett reached over to snag his cap, which was doing too good of a job shielding his face at the moment. After a second, Gates squinted and leaned forward slightly. Beckett could tell that Gates recognized Javier, even if she didn’t know from where. 

Castle shifted his hold on Kevin to prod the older boy. Javier broke his tense stare down with Gates to look questioningly at the writer. His expression at being poked annoyingly was so _Esposito_ that Beckett would never believe that Gates didn’t see it. 

Gates’ brow furrowed and she glanced over at Castle and Kevin. The little blond could only meet her eye for a moment before turning shy and seeking out his partner. Gates followed his sightline and shifted to look at Javier again, too. As if she didn’t trust her vision over the distance between herself and the boys, Gates stood up and moved around her desk. She continued to frown as she struggled to make sense of the theory formulating in her mind. 

“Captain Gates -” Gates held up her finger to silence the rest of Castle’s statement. Beckett could tell that the other woman only needed a minute or two more before she put the pieces of the puzzle together.

“Esposito,” she said hesitantly. The little boy nodded solemnly. “Oh my goodness…” Gates looked towards Castle and Kevin again. “How?”

“Bellefonte didn’t poison the guys when they interviewed her,” explained Beckett. “She cast a similar spell to the one used on Valduerez to make her small. The onset of the curse presented itself like a poisoning so we went with that explanation.”

Gates knelt down so she could be closer to eye-level with Javier. She studied his features closely. Javier watched her with wide eyes. Castle pried the toddler off his front and set the boy on the ground next to Javier’s chair. Gates took the same care in examining the Irishman’s face. The little boy shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny and slipped his hand under the armrest of Javier’s chair to clasp his partner’s hand. 

Finally, the police captain relented and looked at Beckett for further explanation. “You said that Bellefonte ‘cast a spell’ on them?”

“She professed to be a witch. In the past week, I’ve met a number of other people who claim the same thing. By the way, they’ve been with Castle this week, hence his absence from the precinct.” Gates gave her star homicide detective a mildly offended look that clearly indicated that the older woman had already come to that conclusion. 

“Detectives Ryan and Esposito are Castle’s ‘relations’?” asked Gates. She looked back at the boys to make sure they were still small and she hadn’t just imagined the conversation leading up to this point. 

“Yes, sir,” answered Beckett. 

“Did the man behind the attempted kidnapping know whom he was targeting?”

“Yes, sir. Castle took the guys up to the Hamptons to get them out of the crosshairs.”

“Who else knows about this?”

“Castle’s mother and daughter, Detective Demming, and Lanie Parish. Demming volunteered to help with the murder investigation after he recognized Kev… Ryan at Castle’s loft after it was broken into.”

“I see.”

Beckett saw a golden opportunity to bolster her boyfriend’s image in the tough captain’s mind and took it. “Rick’s been amazing, taking care of the guys while I’ve been trying to balance the murder investigation and my own side investigation into how to undo the curse.”

“Your personal business,” stated Gates. 

“Yes, sir.”

“If I might interrupt,” said Castle. “Captain, you seem to be taking this pretty well.”

“I don’t think I’d believe you if I weren’t looking at Esposito and Ryan myself.” She reached towards Javier hesitantly but stopped short of making contact. Javier bridged the distance himself, pressing the palm of his free hand against hers. Gates twisted her wrist until her palm faced the ceiling and Javier’s hand rested atop it. She ran the index finger of her other hand over the soft skin at the back of his hand to confirm that he was real and not a figment of her imagination. “How old are they supposed to be?”

“We think Javi’s about six and Kevin’s about four,” replied Castle. 

“It’s just our bodies that were shrunk,” said Javier. A small smile tugged at the corners of Gates’ mouth at the sound of his high-pitched voice. “We still remember everything from before. Mostly, though, Castle and Beckett forget that and treat us like little kids.”

“You have your moments, buddy,” countered the writer. “I’m pretty sure there’s a reason my arm is sore right now.” He smirked at Kevin’s pout when the younger boy craned his head back to look at him. When he wasn’t looking, Gates traced her fingertips over his little digits where they gripped the armrest of Javier’s chair. Kevin started slightly and clutched the armrest more tightly. 

“Growing up, I had a great aunt who believed in magic and voodoo,” said Gates. “My other relatives always said that she was crazy. Still, she told amazingly scary stories about witches and demons. I was too pragmatic to take the stories literally but fantastical tales intrigue me.”

“For the record, Captain, I called witches at the very start of the case,” said Castle. Gates and Beckett rolled their eyes. Castle frowned about not being taken seriously despite being proven right. 

Gates must have grown uncomfortable crouching in front of the boys. She stood up to her full height. “Where are you at in your side investigation?”

Beckett opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by Castle. “Kate, it’s almost three-thirty.”

“What’s at three-thirty?” inquired Gates. 

“The visitation for Nora Bellefonte,” said Beckett. “A few people of very great interest to me may be there and I’m hoping to make an arrest or two.”

“Don’t tell me that you’re planning to take these precious children to an arrest.” Castle turned towards the wall to disguise his snicker while storm clouds gathered over the boys’ heads. 

“No, they’re going to get some closure from the one who cursed them,” said Beckett cagily. “We do need to get going.”

“Fine.” Gates’ tone clearly conveyed her skepticism. “Hopefully now you’ll keep me in the loop?”

“Of course, sir. By the way, we’re probably going to need to extend the guys’ medical leaves.”

“I’ll take care of it,” offered the captain. 

As she stood up to take her leave, Beckett felt silly for imaging the worse when Gates was let in on the secret. The captain ran a tight ship but she wasn’t their enemy. If anything, Gates was more likely to give someone the benefit of the doubt than was Beckett. Gates had high expectations for her detectives and had faith the expectations could be met. Beckett realized that she fully expected Gates to fall short of the high standard set by Montgomery. It wasn’t fair; they were completely different people. They did have one important aspect in common, though. They cared deeply for the officers under their charge.

xXx

Beckett turned in her seat to look into the back of the Crown Vic. Detective Demming had volunteered to drive to the funeral home where the visitation was being held. That allowed the group to travel together and it helped keep the make and model of Castle’s Mercedes hidden from any of the uninformed witches. Two additional unmarked sedans followed behind them. Beckett had requested that their backup wait a safe distance away. She held onto the hope that they could slip in and out of the building with little fuss save for her arrests.

Castle sat behind the driver’s seat, looking out the window at the slowly passing scenery. Next to him, the two shrunken detectives leaned on each other as they carried on a whispered conversation that Beckett couldn’t make out. Each time the car bumped slightly as they drove over the excessive speed humps on the residential road, Castle instinctively reached out a steadying hand towards the boys. In the interest of time and hassle, they had opted to leave the car seats in the Mercedes. 

There were more cars than Beckett expected in the parking lot of the small mortuary. “Are you sure you want to do this?” asked Demming as he shifted the car into park. 

“It’s too late now,” said Castle sardonically. “Everyone have their rabbit’s foot and four leaf clover?”

“Shut up,” snapped Javier. Kevin nodded in agreement and scowled at the writer. 

“Well, if we all wind up cursed up to our eyeballs, I get to say ‘I told you so.’”

Once they had piled out of the car, Beckett reached for Kevin’s hand. She would refuse to let either of her partners be out of contact with either her or Castle until they were safely leaving the funeral home. Castle followed her lead and got a firm grasp on Javier. With the two boys walking slowly between them, Beckett and Castle crossed the parking lot towards the front doors. Demming kept pace on Beckett’s opposite side. He looked about them warily to make sure no one got the drop on them. 

They stepped into the cool interior of the funeral home without incident. A somber looking man in a dark suit waited by a dark brown podium. “Are you here for the Greenly or Bellefonte service?” he asked in a gravelly voice. 

“Bellefonte,” responded Beckett. 

“Room three.” The greeter raised a bony hand to gesture down the right hallway. Beckett nodded in thanks. They walked down the dimly lit hallway in silence. Beckett felt her heart rate increase marginally with each step towards the partially open double doors marked by a fancy placard that read, “3”, in Edwardian script. The place, old but well-maintained by the diligent proprietor, had that too-sweet scent of death and the oppressive feeling of grief. She flashed back to her mother’s visitation and subsequent funeral. She could barely remember the layout of the building and the colors of the décor but she could remember clearly the smell and the feel. 

Demming slipped through the propped door first, followed by Castle and Javier. Beckett had to look down to avoid tripping over Kevin when he stopped suddenly. “It’s okay, baby boy,” she whispered as she prodded him to fully enter the room. She looked up once she was inside, herself, and saw the reason for her partner’s hesitation. 

The room was decently sized and filled with half of a dozen rows of folding chairs. Over half of the chairs were filled with strangers, facing the simple wooden casket set on metal legs. The group turned to see the newcomers as one, like they had rehearsed the slow, synchronized motion earlier. Beckett swallowed thickly and feverishly hoped that only a small percentage of the thirty or so guests were witches.

“Beckett,” hissed Kevin. He tugged on her hand. “They all have scary faces.”

“Shhh.” She squeezed his little fingers. At the front of the room, two people stood up and hurriedly made their way down the narrow aisle splitting the rows into two sections. Beckett felt marginally better to recognize the familiar faces. She pushed Kevin towards Castle so she could step forward to meet the incredulous Randy Bellefonte and the eager Bianca Castova. 

“Detective, have you lost your mind?” demanded Randy in a hushed voice. Bianca brushed past them with eyes only for the little boys huddled in Castle’s shadow. 

“Mostly,” replied Beckett with dark humor. 

“I thought you were coming to speak with some suspects in my mother’s murder. Why would you bring the detectives?”

“What your mother did to them is unforgivable, whether we figure out how to undo it or not,” said Beckett evenly. “They deserve the chance to face their tormentor at least once.”

“This is… I don’t know what this is.” Randy rubbed the back of his neck and looked to the ceiling for guidance. Beckett held her ground confidently. “Fool-hardy and reckless. That’s what this is, at best.”

“I know,” said Beckett. “What I do with them is _my_ business, regardless. They’re here just long enough to find some semblance of peace with what happened and then Rick will take them back to the Hamptons. I’ll deal with the suspects once they’re gone.”

“I had you pegged for someone with a lot more sense,” said Randy. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Just, stay close to them and don’t let anyone touch them, not even…” He trailed off with a defeated sigh. “Bianca.”

Beckett looked towards her partners. The white witch knelt on one knee before the miniaturized detectives. Her long black skirt and old-fashioned riding jacket shimmered slightly in the florescent lighting. The clothes were cut perfectly for her trim figure. With her gray-streaked blonde hair tucked up under a richly fashioned black hat with a simple onyx flower band and lace veil, she looked striking. Beckett realized that this was the first time she’d ever seen the woman in anything but pale earth tones or muted pastels. 

One of Bianca’s gloved hands was wrapped around Javier’s right hand and her other palm cupped his soft cheek. Castle uncomfortably stood to the side, watching the exchange closely. Kevin was partially hidden behind him. Demming looked even less at ease than the writer and Beckett could tell he was biting his tongue to keep from shouting at the witch to back away. 

“What is she doing to him?” asked Beckett worriedly when she noticed the faint glow around Javier’s profile. 

“Probably putting the same tracking spell on him that she’s had on the little one since you met in Central Park,” said Randy. 

“What?” Beckett wondered if it was possible to see the steam pouring out of her ears. The nerve of that woman never ceased to confound the detective. Beckett appreciated that Bianca wanted to “help” them but didn’t she believe in asking permission before casting spells on other people’s children? Well, if she had had a tracking spell on Kevin for that long, it explained how she knew which house in the Hamptons to shield with the wards. 

Beckett stalked over to the rest of her group. Randy followed a step behind her. “What are you doing?” the detective demanded of the white witch. Bianca took her time smiling warmly at Javier and Kevin before slowly standing and turning to regard Beckett. 

“Katherine.” The witch’s tone was frosty. “I thought you were adverse to _any_ witch coming too close to your precious little ones, yet here you are, right in the middle of a witch’s last rites.” 

“This is a special circumstance,” said Beckett. She pushed as much saccharine false sincerity into her voice as she could muster. “Besides, I figured you’d be here and I know how much you’ve been wanting to see them again.”

“You’ll be grateful that I am,” snapped Bianca. “The Council is definitely going to view this little stunt as evidence that you are unfit to care for them while they’re under the spell.”

“The Council can go to Hell. As soon as they break this curse, then I’ll be interested in hearing about how they think I should be caring for _my_ detectives.” Beckett looked away from the infuriating witch in order to check on Javier. “Are you all right, sweetie?”

“I’m fine,” he said quietly. “She made the dead faces go away.”

“As I predicted, the thought exercises did not work,” said Bianca. “Isn’t it much more bearable to be here now, _mijo_?” Javier nodded in affirmation. Beckett hadn’t actually taken the time, yet, to try the exercises provided by Randy, so Bianca didn’t know if they had failed. “I can do the same for your other friend, too.”

Javier didn’t seem any worse for wear. If anything, the anxious set of his narrow shoulders had relaxed marginally. Beckett looked to Castle for his opinion. The writer shrugged minutely. “It’s up to him,” said Beckett. 

Kevin looked between the assembled witches with their “scary” faces and the slightly more familiar one grinning at him encouragingly. “You should let her help you, Kev,” said Javier. “It doesn’t hurt.” The two partners looked at each other for a while, once again communicating in that silent way that usually left Beckett feeling slightly envious of their close friendship. Finally, Kevin broke the connection and took a deep breath before stepping towards the white witch. Bianca gracefully knelt down again and cupped his face with both of her gloved hands. He stared at her with wide blue eyes while she cast the new spell. As the pale glow surrounding him snapped out of existence, he blinked owlishly. 

“Better, _a leanbh_?”

“They look normal now.”

“Good. If you want to know if a spirit is good or bad, you simply must try to look beyond their physical face to see if they are corrupted or not.”

“Bianca,” said Randy to draw her attention to himself. “They’re here to see Mother and then Detective Beckett will send them back to the Hamptons. It’s better that they go sooner than later.”

“Of course.” Bianca accepted Randy’s offered hand to guide her back to her feet even though she’d already proven herself quite capable of rising unaided. 

Beckett took up Javier’s hand, unwilling to lose physical contact with either of her partners while surrounded by suspicious strangers. Castle did the same with Kevin. Beckett and Javier led the way down the center aisle towards the simple casket at the head of the room. Demming trailed behind Castle and Kevin while Bianca and Randy followed at an even greater distance. 

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks always to my beta-reader, TXMedic. 
> 
> _mijo_ \- Spanish - "my son"
> 
>  _a leanbh_ \- Irish Gaelic - "my child"


	28. Second Friday Late Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the group continues on to the visitation...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Twenty-Eight

Javier kept his head down as they walked up the aisle. He was aware that the fitted black cap he wore was nothing more than a false sense of security - it hid little more than the top of his head from view. However, keeping his eyes cast downward helped him avoid accidentally making eye contact with any of the curious onlookers. Next to him, Beckett walked with a straight back and her chin held high. Her act didn’t fool Javier, who could feel how tightly her fingers clenched his. 

Being dragged through the bullpen at the 12th had been a cakewalk compared to this seemingly unending march. He’d been worried about the meeting with Captain Gates. He sometimes had difficulty gauging how the woman would react to certain things. On one hand, Gates had made her dislike of Castle very clear and she had thrown all of her clout into the power struggle with Beckett when the detective returned from her shooting. Then, she had given her blessing to the relationship between the writer and the detective, claiming to have known about them for a long time despite the team’s best efforts to keep it hidden. 

Javier fought down the urge to shudder at the heavy weight of the numerous gazes on him. He was probably being paranoid, much like he’d been upon retiring from the military, thinking that each of the stares were filled with contempt and a desire to do him ill. At least at the 12th, the looks from his fellow officers had been mildly interested and covert. He knew they would never intentionally harm him or his partner, and not just because he was their brother-in-arms or a small child. Because he was a person. Nora Bellefonte had made it clear that meant nothing to her. Javier didn’t hold very high hopes for the rest of her peers, either. 

It seemed to take an eternity to walk past the six rows of creepy gawkers, but before he knew it, the feet of the metal stand supporting the casket came into his sightline. Beckett stopped a step away from the partially open coffin and simply pushed Javier the rest of the way with the forward swing of her arm. Javier looked over his shoulder at her. She offered him an encouraging smile, then turned to glare at the rest of the visitors. As she turned, Javier caught a brief glimpse of the handle of her gun where it was holstered at her waist. 

Kevin moved to stand next to Javier. His shoulder pressed against the older boy’s. The height of the stand was such that the four-year-old could just see into the opening that framed the deceased witch’s upper body. Kevin didn’t look right away though. He played with the hem of his silly vest - ahem, _waistcoat_ \- as he gathered the courage to look at the corpse. 

Javier looked. Nora Bellefonte appeared the same as all of the other dead people in coffins that Javier had seen. She didn’t look real without the light of life coloring her features. Instead, she looked like she was made of wax. She was pale brown and a purplish hue infiltrated her complexion. The mortician, probably not knowing what a heartless wretch her subject was, had applied minimal makeup. It did little to hide the pallor of death. What was it about dead people in coffins that made them seem so much creepier than dead people in alleys or other random crime scenes? Maybe it was the fact that Nora had been dead for days, whereas their victims were usually only hours past. Maybe it was because Javier felt compassion, or at least pity, for the victims. What he currently felt for the woman before him was just shy of hatred. 

Javier could tell when Kevin finally peered into the wooden box. The Irishman’s fingers dug painfully into the soft flesh below Javier’s elbow. He didn’t know if Kevin felt the same way he did about dead people in coffins. They’d attended enough funerals together but very few visitations. 

“She looks different,” whispered Kevin. 

“You think so?”

“She seemed happier when we met her last week.”

“Well, she was about to cast a huge curse on two unsuspecting detectives,” grumbled Javier. “Now she’s dead.”

“Don’t they usually try to make the deceased look at peace?” Javier hadn’t noticed it before, but the corpse did look less than peaceful. Her wrinkled face was overly creased as if some small pain or tinge of remorse plagued her even now. Instead of a faint smile, the corners of her mouth quirked down into a frown. 

“I don’t know, bro. Maybe some people are just too bad to find peace even in death.” Javier spitefully hoped that the lines of distress in her face were due to unbearable amounts of guilt. 

“Can you see her ‘other face’?” It took Javier a second to understand Kevin’s question. Once he’d deciphered the other boy’s code phrase, he looked critically at the witch. Bianca had said it was simple to see beyond one’s physical face to their spiritual one. All Javier could see was ash over caramel. 

“No, can you?”

“Nuh-uh.” 

“Well, her spirit’s probably gone to… somewhere else by now.”

Kevin fell silent while he contemplated the woman. He worried his lower lip between his teeth as he thought. Javier tried to do the same, though without the outward signs of concentration. 

He didn’t have any grand speech or farewell planned. He didn’t really have anything he wanted to say to her soulless corpse. Sure, screaming and swearing and kicking the metal stands sounded awfully appealing, but he wouldn’t behave like that in front of his friends and especially not in front of an audience of strangers. He wanted Nora to know how much he despised her. He didn’t want the others to know how badly she’d gotten to him. His hope in looking her in the face had been that there would be some hint as to her motive. He still didn’t understand why she’d done it. Oh, he now knew about the lame reasons that she could have used to justify her spell; money, threats, a show of power; but sane people just think about the horrible things they’d like to do to someone else and never actually act on their urges. Why had the witch gone out of her way to ruin his life?

He’d also hoped to find a sign that she regretted what she’d done. Yes, she looked less than peaceful lying there in her wooden box. However, it seemed to him that she was one of those sorts who lamented getting caught, not breaking the rules in the first place. He felt twice cheated. 

Well, if this cloud had a silver lining, like his grandmother claimed all of them had, it was that the witch couldn’t do anything _else_ to him or his partner. It was a very small consolation. He decided to check one last time that her spirit had truly left her body. He stared at the witch’s face, trying to see beyond her waxy skin to the ravaged remnants of her soul. 

Her eyes opened suddenly. The pupils were dilated to the point that the black encompassed her irises, leaving no color. As he stared at her in horror, unable to turn away, red started to bleed into the white parts of her eyeballs and a flickering flame danced in the blackness. Javier choked on the scream fighting its way up his throat. 

“Javi?”

The Hispanic detective snapped his head towards Kevin. The shorter boy looked at him curiously, with his head tilted slightly to the side. “Did you see that?” he asked in a rushed whisper. 

“No.” Kevin frowned slightly. “What happened.”

“I just… I thought I saw something.” Javier dared to glance at the witch. She looked like a wax doll again. Not a single wrinkle had shifted or muscle had twitched. “It was in my head.”

“Oh.” Kevin glanced between his partner and the witch. Javier looked in turn between Beckett and Castle. Neither noticed his brief panic. Castle was absently looking at the witch as well, waiting patiently for the detectives to find their closure. Beyond him, Demming idly perused the room. Beckett stood stiffly to their other side, still watching the strangers warily. When Javier sidestepped towards her, the lead detective looked down at him expectantly. 

“I’m finished,” Javier said. 

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Kevin?”

The blond nodded. He smiled faintly at Javier. The minute gesture of support and the quiet acknowledgment that Javier didn’t want to talk about whatever had spooked him a second ago warmed the Hispanic detective’s tepid mood. He replied with his own ghost of a smile. 

Beckett wanted to hold his hand again. If it made her feel better, he wouldn’t complain that he didn’t need her “protection”. Which he didn’t, by the way. Nor did he need Castle’s help protecting Kevin, but letting the writer coddle the Irishman made it easier for Javier to keep his head down again as they retraced the infinitely long trek out of this suffocating room. 

About two steps into their retreat, the atmosphere of the room suddenly spiked from thinly veiled animosity to outright alarm. About half of the visitors stood up and turned towards the back of the room while the rest cowered down, hoping that the backs of their chairs would shield them from whatever was about to enter. Javier could feel the press of intense magical power like the humidity in the room had risen by 300%. 

Bianca appeared in front of them. Her black skirt swished fitfully around her ankles as she shoved him backwards into Beckett’s legs. “Go!” she hissed, waving her hand towards an emergency exit door at the front of the room. Javier hadn’t noticed it previously. It was partially hidden behind a decorative screen. 

Their group of five was slow to heed Bianca’s frantic herding towards the emergency exit. They were still standing at the top of the aisle when the double doors at the back burst open and jumped off their hinges. The doors thudded to the ground as smoke poured into the room, heralding the entrance of a man dressed entirely in black. 

Javier barely had time to register the man’s sheet white complexion and inky black hair before he was being propelled sideways by a bruising grip on his upper arm. He stumbled slightly at the rough treatment but Castle held him up. Javier found his feet in time to avoid being dragged towards the exit. He was pushed behind Beckett, who had her gun drawn and pointed at the villain. 

“That won’t do anything,” scolded Bianca when she saw Beckett’s gun. “Get them out of here.” The detective hesitated briefly as her training warred with her instincts. She finally lowered the weapon and backed away, following the rest of their group. 

Demming grabbed the panic bar on the door and immediately jumped backwards. His palms were red from the shock he’d received. Bianca let out a string of very unlady-like epithets. “Get down and stay low,” she ordered. 

“What’s going on?” demanded Beckett once their group was crouched behind the meager cover of the decorative screen. Javier could barely see the white witch from where he and Kevin had been shoved into the corner. Castle was directly in front of them, defensively shielding the small boys from the unfolding drama. Beckett and Demming made up the front line of their defenses, though Javier wasn’t sure how much protection the robbery detective could offer when he was having difficulty holding his weapon. Javier had been burned before and he knew it was very painful. Bianca stood at the door, trying to undo the spell sealing it shut without drawing the attention of the madman in black. 

“He should not have this kind of power,” whispered Bianca hurriedly. “This blatant offensive can only end poorly.” She verbally condemned the door when her attempt to open it failed. The way that the older witch continued to check nervously over her shoulder to mark the progress of the altercation made Javier feel anxious. The bigger part of him, however, wanted to know what was going on. 

He stood up on his toes and used Castle’s shoulder for balance as he strained to see over Beckett and Demming. The writer looked up when he felt the pressure on his upper back. “What are you doing? Stay down.”

“I want to see,” argued Javier. On the other side of Castle, Kevin leaned out to the side, also unwilling to miss the action. Knowing him, Castle was equally excited to see a witchy fight first hand. The writer pulled each of the boys to his sides so they could see more easily. He kept a strong arm wrapped around them both. 

The pale man now stood in the middle of the room, glowering derisively at the rest of the room’s occupants. His back was slightly hunched and his greasy black hair hung limply over his forehead, nearly covering one eye completely. His eyes reminded Javier of the vision he’d just experienced when trying to see Nora Bellefonte’s spirit. Beyond the man, hovering in the blown-out doorway, was a second person. That figure’s costume consisted of an out-dated black cloak over a similarly old-fashioned suit. The second person seemed content to be ignored as everyone else was focused on the first man. 

“What is the meaning of this?” demanded an older man from the crowd. He stepped into the aisle and boldly faced the newcomer. 

“I have come to pay my respects.” The man’s voice rasped as if he had suffered from a bad cough. “You would deny me the chance to say good-bye to my own mother?” His eyes flickered angrily and he took a deep breath before forcing himself to smile sickly. 

“What have you done to yourself, Rayford?” asked Randy. Instead of sounding confrontational, Bellefonte the Younger’s tone was heartbroken. He stood near the open casket. His knuckles were white where he gripped the edge. 

“I have simply taken what has been denied to me my whole life,” sneered the pasty stranger. “Not all of us were born with such gifts.” Javier had never seen this man before, though he suspected it was the older Bellefonte brother. Javier knew without a doubt that this interloper hated Randy. One could not fake that kind of malice. 

“To obtain such dark magic unnaturally is against the very center of the Council’s beliefs,” stated the old man who had first confronted Rayford. 

“I could not care less about the Council.” Bellefonte the Older’s eyes flashed again. Javier could barely feel the slight pulse in the edgy atmosphere, though plenty of the witches reacted obviously. “Except for one.”

“Rayford-” Randy took a step forward as he beseechingly addressed his brother. He didn’t have the chance to utter another sound before Rayford threw a hand out in his direction and suddenly Randy was falling backwards roughly. Beckett nearly bolted forward when their best hope at breaking the curse on Javier and Kevin struggled to recover from the invisible attack. Demming pulled her back. 

“I have plans for you and I, little brother, but there is no time for them today.”

“Be gone from this place and take your necromancer friend with you,” insisted the bravely foolish old man. Javier perked up slightly and once again looked at the cloaked figure in the doorway. Was he the one who had attacked them during the hailstorm two days ago?

“I will leave when I have finished my business.”

“What is your business?”

Javier was distracted momentarily by Bianca’s increasingly frequent expletives as she struggled to free the door of its spell. He barely caught Rayford’s response. “My business is to make every single one of you pay for the wrongs inflicted upon myself and my mother,” said the man. He started to shake as his control faltered and his fury started to leak through his calm façade. “You will _all_ pay.”

“Your mother was an evil woman who earned her just rewards,” said a portly man with round wire-framed glasses and gray mutton chop sideburns. “You will get yours, as well, if you continue in this madness.”

“Mr. Kennedy, I hoped you would be here,” said Rayford. “Yours is the death I wish for the most.” He grinned wickedly. The portly man started to choke. He clutched at his throat and knocked over a couple folding chairs while he struggled to breathe. A middle-aged woman, who seemed to be with this Kennedy person, screamed. She ineffectively clutched Kennedy’s arm while he turned red and then purple. Other witches shouted at Rayford to cease whatever attack he was performing. A few of the men tried to tackle him but they were held at bay by another pulse of magic. The cloaked man in the doorway had entered the room to defend his murderous associate.

“I don’t have a clear shot,” Beckett said in frustration to Demming. “There are too many other people crowded around him.” Demming craned his neck to see if he could find a clear sight line. Apparently he was also unsuccessful. Beckett made as if she was going to storm over to Rayford and demand that he cease murdering the Kennedy witch. Bianca intercepted her and angrily whispered admonishments that the police not get involved. Beckett argued in return, insisting that she needed to do her job. It didn’t matter anyway. Javier could see that Beckett was too late to save the victim. 

Kennedy now lay in the middle of a pile of collapsed folding chairs, twitching and frothing at the mouth. His companion sobbed loudly and shouted for help. By this time, anyone who drew too close to the portly man received a nasty shock. Bianca gave up trying to force some sense into Beckett. She turned to glare hatefully at Rayford. Javier could see the muscle in her strong jaw tick as she forced herself to not draw the killer’s attention to them by moving to aid the dead man’s companion.

The Council members who had tried to subdue Rayford now loitered in a semi-circle around him, waiting like vultures for the time when the necromancer dropped his shields and they could attack. Kennedy no longer moved. His bloated face was completely blue and his wide open eyes were bloodshot to the point that no white remained. Beckett muttered to herself about her suspect being killed before she could arrest him and how Bianca was always trying to thwart her investigations. Javier didn’t feel too badly for her - now she had a new suspect to arrest for murder. 

“The rest of you shall have to wait your turns,” said Rayford darkly. He scanned the room with hate-filled eyes. Javier shuddered unconsciously when the witch’s eyes passed over him. Though the dark gaze rested on him for only a moment, Javier felt like the man had looked right through him, laying bare all of his inner thoughts and fears. “I have a loved one who needs my attention at the moment.”

“Don’t go after Randy,” pleaded Beckett in a whisper to no one. Demming clutched her arm. Rayford did take two steps towards the front of the room and raise his hand confidently. However, he was aiming at the casket, not his brother who winced in pain each time he tried to stand up. 

“Stop!” ordered a chorus of witches. They tried once again to restrain Rayford but they could not get within a foot of him. Javier wondered why Beckett didn’t try to shoot the necromancer, who still stood by himself near the double doorway. 

Rayford didn’t stop. He concentrated fully on his self-appointed task. Javier could see the older brother’s lips moving as he spoke but the words were silent. A long few seconds passed until the cheap wooden casket started to glow faintly. It didn’t seem possible, but the apprehension in the room grew even thicker. 

“Don’t do this,” called Randy beseechingly. He laboriously scooted away from the casket stand. Bianca shouted out a warning too late as Beckett rose to her full height and opened fire on the witch. Javier knew that the lead detective was a scarily good shot, especially at this range. Still, her bullets were unable to penetrate the thick wall of energy that surrounded the evil witch. 

“Shoot the necromancer!” Javier tried to push forward to get Beckett’s attention. The deafening echo of a dozen semi-automatic discharges rung in his ears. Castle halted Javier’s forward progress with his iron-like grip around the boy’s waist. 

Simultaneously, Rayford shifted his focus to the police officer and Beckett shifted hers to the necromancer. The bullets could not pierce through the invisible shield surrounding the second man, either, but he took a few stumbling steps as the impact from the projectiles on his protective barrier knocked him back. The necromancer regained his footing in time to dart into the hallway and out of the path of Beckett’s gun. His retreat did nothing to shake Rayford’s loathsome concentration on Beckett. 

Rayford threw both of hands out towards the female detective with murderous intent. “No!” yelled Bianca. She stepped in front of Beckett and raised her arms defensively. Javier fully expected both of the women to be thrown backwards. Instead, the beat of magic knocked Rayford into the abused folding chairs behind him. Beckett gaped dumbly at the white witch while Rayford fought to find his feet again. Bianca wasted little time watching the man flounder. She turned back to the emergency exit door and grasped the panic bar firmly. A flash of light nearly blinded Javier as the white witch overpowered the magical lock and pushed the door open. He realized that all of this time, she’d been trying to keep her own magical power under Rayford’s radar so he wouldn’t attack the police detectives and writer. The cat was out of the bag now and Bianca wasted no time clearing their path to freedom. 

Castle was in the process of trying to stand up with a kid tucked under each arm when suddenly he froze. Javier followed the direction of his gaze to the wooden box on the metal stand. He was struck by his own shock at what he saw. Under Castle’s other arm, Kevin cried out and threw his hands over his eyes to block out the horrible scene. 

Nora Bellefonte sat up coolly in her temporary resting place. Her black eyes were dead as she surveyed the room before slowly climbing out of the casket. Based on the reaction of everyone around him, Javier knew that this time, it wasn’t all in his head. 

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, TXMedic, for being such a faithful beta-reader. 
> 
> Yeah for posting early in honor of Castle Season 5 Day!
> 
> There is a small but real possibility that I won’t be able to post on Saturday, but I will do my best. In the meantime, please let me know what you think, especially if you have ideas of ways I can improve.


	29. Second Friday Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the group remembers the last week...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Twenty-Nine

Kevin idly flipped through the photos stored on his smart phone as he sat curled up at one end of the couch. They had been back in the Hamptons for about an hour and a half. The whole time had been spent waiting nervously for any word from Beckett. While Castle had wasted no time racing back to his summer house once they were freed from the funeral home and back at the precinct, Beckett had stayed behind with Demming to deal with the aftermath of the visitation. Kevin hoped that Internal Affairs didn’t lean too much on Beckett. It wasn’t really her fault that she’d been forced to fire her weapon twice in less than a week. 

Maybe Gates would put in a good word for Beckett. She seemed to be taking the news of his and Javier’s transformation as well as one could. The captain had also seemed more concerned with her detectives’ well-being than the fact that Beckett had fired into a crowded room. Her parting words to Kevin, during their brief five-minute stop at the precinct to retrieve Castle’s Mercedes, centered on him returning all the missed phone calls from his concerned relatives. 

Part of the reason Kevin hadn’t responded to any of the messages on his phone was because he didn’t know what to say. Not only that, but he no longer sounded like himself. His family would definitely notice the higher octave of his voice. Maybe he could play it off as the result of a bad connection but he doubted that plan would work. 

His sister would kill him the next time she saw him if he responded to her frantic calls to his supervisor and captain with a text message. Despite that, it seemed like the best course of action. He’d claim that he was swamped with work and apologize profusely for missing the holiday with his niece and nephew. Kevin wondered how many tragic emoticons it would take to convince her of his sincerity. 

For good measure, he sent a blanket message to his remaining sister and to his parents to inform them that he was alive and well, just overworked. His oldest sibling definitely would have reached out to the rest of the family before contacting Beckett or Gates, so he knew they must be worrying, too. 

Kevin missed his family and friends outside of the protective little bubble into which Beckett and Castle had put him and Javier. Javier was his best friend and his most trusted confidant, but Kevin still enjoyed discussing all of his “geeky” interests with his friends who shared his passions and didn’t just humor him. Not even his friendship with Javier could replace the close relationships he shared with each of his siblings, nor could Castle really ever fill the shoes of the elder Mr. Ryan.

Kevin scrunched up his nose in response to that strange thought. In the midst of their cursed present situation, the three homicide detectives and one writer had unconsciously slipped into the various roles of their impromptu family. At first, he and Javier had resisted being treated like little kids while Beckett and especially Castle tried to “parent” them. Now, Kevin didn’t feel like making the effort to fight the full-size adults unless it was over something about which he was very passionate (like _not_ riding in a car seat). It was just easier to let the lovers pretend to be Mom and Dad and take care of the cursed detectives. Javier seemed to feel the same way for the most part, though he was still reticent to take advantage of the rest of the perks of being so small. 

The Irishman very much liked all of the attention he was getting from his teammates. Beckett was warm and soft and nice to cuddle with. Javier never left his side for longer than was necessary and intimately understood the up and downs of their current predicament. Castle was always ready with a hug or a free ride to their next destination. Being carried around also included the benefit of being so high up. He was actually a bit “taller” when Castle held him than when the detective had been full-size. 

Kevin enjoyed the company of Martha and Alexis. The older stage actress was so full of life and funny quips that she made it easy for Kevin to forget momentarily about what had happened to himself and Javier. She had been the first to find the balance between addressing the needs of a four-year-old and respecting that mentally he was still in his thirties. Alexis was great at pretending nothing about the two detectives had changed. The college student just went about her life as if her dad was permanently entertaining some of his friends, as opposed to baby-sitting a couple of cursed police officers. 

Right now Alexis was putting the finishing touches on her glittery stars. They looked amazing, though that didn’t surprise Kevin. Alexis seemed to have the Midas touch without the nasty side effects of turning all her food and friends into metal. The redhead quietly hummed along with her iPod as she surveyed her work spread across the wide coffee table. She glanced up at him when she registered his attention. He shyly looked back down at his phone. 

His couch cushion shifted as Castle sat down heavily next to him. In order to keep his balance and not slide into the shallow depression Castle was making, Kevin leaned against the older man’s shoulder. “What’re you up to, kiddo?”

“Lying to my family about what I’ve been up to this past week,” Kevin replied. He reached over the armrest to deposit his phone on the end table. “Any word yet from Beckett?”

“She should be here, soon,” replied the writer. He yawned and dropped his head down on the back of the couch. He had to slide his hips forward to make the position less awkward on his neck. Kevin could read the time on the expensive wristwatch strapped around Castle’s left wrist. It was twenty-five minutes until nine o’clock. “How are you not struggling to stay awake? I know you didn’t sleep in the car this time.”

“Guess I’m still running on adrenaline,” replied Kevin absently. “Besides, it would have been impossible to sleep while you were driving like a madman.”

“I was not,” protested the older man.

“You never dropped below ninety on the highway and I’m sure you spent more time looking in the rearview mirror than at what was in front of you.” Kevin smirked at Castle’s defensive expression. “You were more of a menace to our safety than anyone who might have been following us.”

“Yeah, yeah. The point is, we made it back here in one piece.”

“Barely.” Kevin sighed and tried to relax against the writer’s side. “Thank you, though, for caring,” he whispered.

“Come here,” mumbled Castle. He pulled the detective into his arms and hugged him snugly against his chest. Kevin shifted into a more comfortable position with his head resting under the writer’s scraggly chin. The man needed a hug and a shave. Kevin couldn’t do anything about the latter, but after all Castle had done for them, the earlier wasn’t too much to ask. “You’re not upset about what happened at the visitation?”

“I’m trying not to think about it,” said Kevin dryly. 

Castle laughed quietly. Kevin more felt the rumbling of the man’s chest than heard the sound. “Sorry.” The writer fell quietly into thought while Kevin once again methodically locked away the memories of Nora Bellefonte rising from the dead. He was almost to the point of being able to focus on anything else when Castle interrupted his concentration by calling for Javier. “Javi, come in here, buddy. She’s not going to arrive any sooner with you leering out the window.”

Javier had stationed himself in a chair before one of the front facing windows adjacent to the main entry. He diligently kept his vigil over the dark circular drive, looking for any sign of Beckett’s blue Charger. Javier vacillated for a minute before finally sliding out of the chair and dejectedly walking towards the writer and his partner. He was crossing the fine wood flooring of the entry vestibule when a bright light suddenly flooded the windows and the familiar crunch of rubber tires on gravel paving sounded from without. Javier did an about face and rushed to the front door. Castle adjusted his hold on Kevin and stood up quickly to join Javier at the door. By the time they arrived, Javier was standing outside on the stoop expectantly. 

“How many times do I have to tell you to let me answer the door?” scolded Castle. He tugged on Javier’s left ear. 

“You’ve only told me once before,” protested Javier. “Let go.” He looked pitifully up at Castle once the writer released him. 

“That should be enough,” complained Castle. 

Two car doors opened within seconds of each other. Kevin peered into the darkness, trying to see who had come with Beckett. Castle hadn’t mentioned that Beckett wasn’t coming alone. 

Apparently Javier had better night vision than Kevin. The younger detective frowned when his partner recognized the medical examiner first and rushed towards her. Lanie knelt down to wrap him in a huge hug, right in the middle of the driveway. Javier graciously accepted her loud, wet kiss on his cheek.

Beckett sidestepped the ex-lovers and came up to her own boyfriend. She looked a bit haggard. Her long hair was pulled back into a limp ponytail and there were smudges of darkness under her eyes. “Hey,” she greeted faintly. 

“Hi,” replied Kevin. 

“Hey, yourself,” said Castle. He reached over to brush a loose strand of hair away from Beckett’s cheek. “Rough day?”

Beckett laughed tiredly. “It was pretty par-for-the-course considering the week we’ve had.” She leaned in for a short kiss. Kevin pushed himself as far back as he could without causing Castle to drop him. He liked being close to his friends, but not _that_ close. 

The Irishman looked about himself while he waited for his friends to finish saying hello. He wondered what was lurking in the inky blackness. A thick cover of clouds had rolled in, blocking the stars. Only the moon was bright enough to shine through, though it was dim as well. He couldn’t even make out the pale wards that outlined the property. They had been visible when Castle had pulled up to the house after their return. Unfortunately, knowing the wards existed didn’t do much to ease the paranoid anxiety that plagued their group. 

Lanie and Javier walked up to join them. The medical examiner had a tight hold on Javier’s hand. Kevin was happy for his partner, who looked glad to have Lanie’s company during the “anniversary” of their transformation. He couldn’t believe it had only been a week since that awful night when he and Javier had shrunken down to small children. So much had happened in that short time. 

Now that Beckett had moved away again to retrieve the overnight bags that she and Lanie had brought, Kevin sighed and dropped his chin down onto Castle’s shoulder. He could see Alexis waiting patiently in the doorway for her turn to greet the newcomers. She almost looked like she was glowing, thanks to the light shining out from behind her. 

“Now you’re tired?” asked Castle in a low voice. He brought the arm he had used to embrace Beckett back around Kevin.

“No.” Depressed was more like it. Thankfully, Castle let the subject drop. 

“Hello, Castle,” said Lanie. 

“I’m glad you could make it,” replied the writer. “Maybe you can convince Javier to be a sport and tell me his secret.”

“Sorry, Castle, my lips are sealed.” Kevin felt her tug on the back of his shirt. “What’s with the cold shoulder, Kevin?”

“I don’t think he’s ignoring you,” said Castle in his defense. “He’s about to fall asleep.”

“Ah,” said Lanie as if that explained everything. It didn’t. Kevin just _told_ Castle that he wasn’t tired yet. The detective lifted his head so he could inform Lanie of that fact himself. He forced himself to shake off the heavy feelings that were holding him down. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” Kevin told the softly smiling woman. “I’m not about to fall asleep, by the way.”

“That’s good to hear,” Lanie answered. Kevin could tell she was patronizing him. What was wrong with her and Castle? Kevin was perfectly capable of judging his own levels of fatigue and even if he was getting sleepy, he wouldn’t let himself nod off. He knew what nightmares awaited him and he vowed to put them off as long as possible. 

“Let’s go inside,” said Beckett when she rejoined them. Lanie took her own bag from Beckett. If anyone looked like they were about to receive a visit from the Sandman, it was the lead detective. 

Beckett said hello to the young redhead as she crossed the threshold. Lanie dropped Javier’s hand long enough to wrap the younger Castle into a brief hug. The two exchanged short pleasantries that Kevin couldn’t hear because Castle had decided to follow Beckett into the living room. The detective dropped her bag by the side of the couch before dropping her body into her favorite chair. 

“Can I get anyone a drink?” inquired the writer. Lanie requested a bottle of water while Javier tried his luck with beer. Castle overreacted a bit, which Kevin and Javier found amusing mostly because _they_ knew that the Hispanic detective had been joking. “Don’t quit your day job to become a comedian, kid. You’re not funny,” said the writer. 

A second later, Kevin found himself abandoned in front of Beckett’s chair while the author went to play host in the kitchen. He looked up at his partner. She had let her eyes slide shut and was yawning widely. She didn’t exactly look like she wanted someone climbing on her, so Kevin slid down to sit on the carpet. He leaned back against the chair and wished his phone wasn’t so far across the room. 

Even though they weren’t together anymore, Kevin kind of envied Javier and Lanie. The medical examiner was seated in the middle of the couch with Javier plastered to her one side and Alexis seated an appropriate distance away on her other. Lanie doted on Javier lovingly because at one point, they had been in love. As much as Kevin craved the attention he had been receiving recently, he knew he’d only been getting it because of the curse. Right now, he reminded the rest of the group of a favorite doll or toy. Nobody here cared any more about him than feelings towards a friend and especially didn’t love him the way Javier and Lanie loved each other.

Lanie turned to her left to respond to Alexis’ last statement. Javier broke from his sugary-sweet ogling of her to look in Kevin’s direction. Kevin thickly swallowed the bitter lump of jealousy he was feeling. More than anyone Kevin knew, he thought Javier deserved to have someone love him most. If that meant Javier wouldn’t have as much time for his partner, then Kevin would just have to live with that. That didn’t mean it didn’t royally stink for the Irishman. 

Javier slipped out from under Lanie’s arm and off of the couch. Kevin frantically tried to wipe any evidence of his negative thoughts out of his expression or posture before his partner reached him. He thought he might have succeeded by the time the Hispanic boy flopped down next to him. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Javier asked. No dice. 

“I’m fine,” said Kevin quickly. Javier raised an eyebrow skeptically. “I mean, it’s been a horrible week and today was extra bad and everyone is exhausted except for me though Castle can’t comprehend that and keeps telling people I’m about to fall asleep which I’m really not because that’s the last thing I want to do right now and I really wish tonight was the anniversary of something nice like a promotion or catching a bad guy or getting a puppy and not something stupid like being turned into a four-year-old and seeing dead people become not dead.” Kevin had to stop because his words were starting to come out like breathless wheezes. 

Now both of Javier’s eyebrows were trying to climb up to his hairline. “Right.”

“Right.” Kevin nodded and looked earnestly at his partner.

“So what’s really bothering you?”

_Ugh_. Stupid partners who spend way too much time with you and think they know everything about you because of it. “I told you.”

“You told me you want a puppy.”

Did he? Kevin tried to replay his explanation but couldn’t remember much of what he’d actually said. A puppy would be fun though. “So? I thought you liked dogs.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“Really, it’s just all the crap that’s happened because of the witches,” said Kevin. As if the universe had, for once in his life, decided to take his side, the exquisite grandfather clock started to chime for the nine o’clock hour. It had officially been one week since the transformation. Seven days. One hundred and sixty-eight hours. Ten thousand and… okay, he couldn’t do that math in his head so easily.

Castle returned with a beverage tray, which he set on the coffee table. He’d been busy, it seemed. The bottle of water and glass of ice with a lime wedge went to Lanie. A mug each of steaming tea were for Beckett and the writer. Javier and Alexis had matching hot chocolates and Kevin received his namesake honey milk drink. He could barely taste the sweet concoction for the burning sensation over his taste buds but the warmth was almost as healing as the flavor. Javier situated himself with his back against the chair and his entire side pressed against Kevin’s. He sipped at his dark-colored beverage more responsibly than the Irishman. 

The writer took Javier’s abandoned seat next to Lanie. “Are you two talking about creepy dead things?” he asked the medical examiner and his daughter. 

“No,” said Alexis with a small shake of her head. 

“With all the hocus-pocus going on around you four, I’d think creepy dead things would be at the bottom of your list of suitable conversation topics,” said Lanie. “Beckett gave me the four-one-one on your visit to the funeral home.”

“Yes, that highly successful outing,” said Castle. He groaned faintly. “What happened after we left?”

“It’s a mess,” said Beckett. She shifted so she was sitting more upright. She wrapped her arms around her shins since she couldn’t drop her feet to the floor due to her partners. “I didn’t know how to explain half of the stuff that happened and none of the witches seemed very eager to cooperate with the cops. More backup arrived after Officer Carter drove you three back to the precinct. The medical examiner on the scene guessed that Winston Kennedy died of asphyxiation, but there were no external marks on his body to explain how he was suffocated. Demming came up with the story that Rayford had somehow managed to electrify the door handle and that the burns on his palms were electrical.”

“Is he all right?”

“He should be,” said Beckett. “Bianca offered to heal the burns for him but Demming didn’t want her to use magic on him. I dropped him off at the hospital before meeting Lanie. The burns didn’t really look that bad.”

“Not that you macho cops are very good judges of how bad your injuries are,” said Lanie. She sent a pointed look at Javier, then Beckett. 

“And Rayford?” Castle shifted uncomfortably and took a slow sip of his hot drink. His quick glance towards the uncovered windows facing the back made Kevin feel fearful as well. He couldn’t stop himself from checking on the large windows. Thanks to the bright lights of the living room, he couldn’t see beyond the reflection of the room in the glass. He shuddered involuntarily and went back to shifting his gaze from one familiar face to the next. 

“Gone,” said Beckett in a small voice. “Both he and his associate were nowhere to be found. Nora’s body is also missing.” She paused to pinch the bridge of her nose. “Captain Gates set up a search party for them. By the time Lanie and I left to come up here, the canvass was still going strong but they’d yet to find anything. Gates promised to call if they got any leads.”

“How did they manage to sneak past all of those witches and the police officers?” The quintet from the 12th had been urged through the emergency exit door by Bianca while the rest of the witches floundered to take action against the risen Nora Bellefonte and her son. 

“I don’t know.” Beckett’s voice was tainted with defeat. “Bianca was too concerned with the blatant assassination of her fellow Council member and the suspicious destruction of the funeral home’s property to answer many of my questions. All I could infer was that in the time between his mother’s death and today, Rayford stocked up on some magical steroids. Bianca had mentioned to me before that it was possible for a witch to make deals with other witches and dark spirits to gain additional power. That’s how his mother had the ability to cast her spell on Kevin and Javier.”

“And his brother?” Kevin remembered the way Beckett had panicked when Rayford had first started his spell that would eventually reanimate his mother’s body. The lead detective had feared that the madman would try to further harm Randy, the only person actively trying to undo their curse.

“He assured me that the blow he’d taken wouldn’t do any lasting damage,” Beckett responded. “He was more worried about what his brother would do next than to his own injuries. He urged me to keep the two of you within Bianca’s wards.”

“Rayford very much seems like he hates his brother,” said Javier. 

“Unfortunately, I think you’re right.” Beckett reached down to thread her long fingers through Javier’s dark hair. “He hates a lot of people right now.”

“What happened with IA?”

“I spoke briefly to the same detective who handled my case on Sunday,” she replied. “There was enough evidence and witness testimony to corroborate my claim that the shooting had been necessary. What was harder to explain away was how I emptied nearly an entire clip at the suspect and managed to not hit a single thing. I have another meeting with IA on Monday.”

Kevin sighed and stared at his little feet, stretched out before him. He wiggled his toes just to prove that they were actually his and he really was trapped in this unending nightmare. 

xXx

After Beckett imparted what little information she had on the status of their tentative allies and known foes, the room fell into a dreary quiet. The homicide detective wanted nothing more than to go to sleep and not wake up again until all of her problems were resolved. Unfortunately, she knew that wouldn’t happen and that wishful thinking would only deepen her melancholy. Besides that, the creepy feeling that someone was watching her and something horrible was about to happen prevented her from calming enough to actually sleep. She hated that a dangerous suspect was loose and possibly planning to assault her loved ones. 

Her knees started to ache slightly at being bent so acutely. She stretched out as well as she could without accidently kicking one of her junior detectives in the head. Half of her wanted them to stay right where they were so she could keep a close eye on them. The other half wanted them to move so she could find a more comfortable position. To her bittersweet relief, Castle noted her discomfort and cajoled the younger males into coming over to sit next to him. They went, leaving their partially drunk and completely cold drinks on the floor. She reached down to retrieve the mugs and set them next to hers on the side table. 

“Well, Castle,” said Lanie. She looked over at the writer with a small smirk. “Could you have written anything as crazy as everything you four have been through this week?”

“I generally aim to keep my stories slightly more plausible,” he replied. “If this weren’t actually happening in real life, I’d never believe it was possible.” Beckett agreed with her boyfriend. She preferred mysteries, romances, and low-budget horror flicks. Occasionally, a good science fiction show like Nebula 9 would catch her attention. She could do without this fantasy stuff. 

“I’m still not sure I believe it’s possible,” said Alexis. “Does anyone else keep thinking they’re just in the middle of a really weird dream?” There was a chorus of agreements. Beckett noted that her two cursed partners didn’t add their own “mmhm” to the mix. Javier’s deep frown and wrinkled brow belayed his frustration at his current misery and Kevin simply looked dejectedly resigned to his fate. 

“Hopefully we’ve reached rock bottom and things can only get better from here,” said Castle. Beckett didn’t really share his optimism. She had a sick feeling in her gut that they were still in for some rough times. She wasn’t often intimidated by her suspects, but the way Rayford Bellefonte had looked at her that afternoon before attempting to kill her made her shudder and her blood feel like it had turned to ice. 

“You’ve been through a lot,” said Lanie. “First, there was the transformation itself.”

“Which was definitely no walk in the park,” said Javier. He dropped his head back against the couch and sighed. Kevin nodded slowly in agreement. 

“Martha had fun buying you both new wardrobes,” quipped Castle. 

“They make cute clothes for little kids,” teased Lanie. She poked Javier in the side. 

“We’re not cute,” the Hispanic detective complained. He pushed her hand away and pouted. Beckett smiled faintly. Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t helping his case with that expression. If she wasn’t so tired and unwilling to move, she’d have wanted to squeeze him tightly. 

“Adorable?” suggested Castle. 

“Darling,” offered Lanie. Javier’s face turned a darker shade of red with each synonym. 

“Endearing,” said Alexis. 

Castle shook his head at that one. “There have been plenty of times I’ve wanted to bring one of them to a miserable end. They can be the exact opposite of endearing when they want to be.”

“Aw, I can’t imagine them being anything but precious,” said Lanie. Beckett was sure Lanie was wise to the mounting irritation in her ex-lover and was purposefully goading him. Well, as long as the six-year-old exploded on the medical examiner, Beckett wouldn’t complain about a little entertainment. 

“Oh, imagine it,” said Castle darkly. “Stealing my camcorder and phone.”

“Hacking into your computer.” Alexis leaned forward so she could see Kevin at the far end of the couch. The toddler grinned cheekily at her from where he had tucked himself under Castle’s arm. 

“The car seat fiasco,” chimed in Beckett. That was one of her favorites. Kevin’s grin vanished and he sent her a dark look. 

“Making inappropriate comments about my love life,” complained Castle. Javier’s countenance mellowed marginally and he smirked up at the writer. “Keeping secrets.” Castle gave the six-year-old a significant look. 

“You’re losing your edge, Rick. I think you’re the only one who hasn’t figured it out yet,” said Beckett. 

“Nobody told me.” Kevin moped at being left out of the know. 

Javier regarded his partner closely for a long moment. Eventually he leaned back again and crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re all a bunch of busy-bodies with too much free time.” He got a bunch of smug smiles in response. 

“Throwing mud on my new shirt,” remembered Beckett. That was not as cute as Kevin’s meltdown over traveling to the Hamptons. She stuck her tongue out at Javier. 

“You dunked me in the freezing cold ocean,” countered Javier. 

“You deserved worse, brat.”

“Speaking of that morning,” started Castle. “I still want to know when the kids had the opportunity to see you in compromising attire.”

“Oh, that story,” said Lanie. She exchanged a conspiratorial smile with Beckett. The lead detective, due to her extreme fatigue, found Castle’s look of consternation much funnier than it probably was.

“You’re all against me,” said Castle with an exaggeratedly morose expression. 

Kevin patted his leg. “You’ll get used to it.” The writer made a face at the toddler and tightened his hold briefly, causing the little boy to let out a squeak of protest. 

“At least I don’t let demeaning rumors spread around Manhattan about you,” said Beckett. 

“Castle,” chided Lanie in defense of her friend. 

“I can’t help what other people say,” protested the writer. “You’re lucky to only have one rumor floating around. My life is always being splashed across page six.”

“What do you expect? Remember that time you were flirting with that woman near Radiant Pines?” asked Javier. 

“Dad,” said Alexis as if she had been scandalized. 

“I was not _flirting_ with her,” sputtered Castle. “I was investigating a murder. And, that was just another example of you saying inappropriate things about me to perfect strangers.”

“You told her that Lanie was my mother,” accused Javier. 

“What?” exclaimed the woman in question. 

“I just said that his mother was named Lanie,” defended Castle. “I didn’t mean that you were her.”

“Uh huh.” Lanie did not look impressed by his explanation. 

“All that matters from that afternoon was that I jumped further from the swings,” announced Javier. 

“You did _not_!” Kevin jabbed his finger in Javier’s direction. “What matters is how far your -”

“What matters,” interrupted Castle, “is that I will kill you myself if you ever pull a stunt like that again. I’m too young to suffer any more premature heart attacks.”

“Besides,” said Lanie. “I’m pretty sure your little competition is not the worst thing that happened that afternoon.” Beckett felt sick at the reminder of the first kidnapping attempt they’d thwarted. The memory of Big Perp running out in front of the Civic while carrying her younger partner flashed unbidden through her mind. She could see Javier’s face pale slightly as he also recalled the stomach-turning thud of the kidnapper’s body rolling over the hood of the sedan and then the squeal of tires as the SUV barely avoided striking the toddler who’d landed hard on the asphalt. 

Castle cleared his throat and glanced between the three detectives sympathetically. Beckett appreciated his attempt to lighten the mood again. “I know. Can you believe someone broke into my loft?” He sighed dramatically. “I still miss my #1 Dad mug.”

“I’ll get you another one,” promised Alexis. 

“Thanks, angel.”

“That was only the first time someone tried to steal you two,” said Beckett. 

“I don’t know why anyone would want them. Little terrorists,” said Castle. 

“You love us, admit it.” Javier smiled sweetly at the writer. Castle dug his fingers into Javier’s side, causing the boy to shriek and practically jump into Lanie’s lap to avoid the tickle attack. Beckett’s amusement faded when she saw Kevin’s rigid posture as he recalled their encounter with the necromancer. She knew that both of her boys suffered nightmares from the memory of Walter Yates’ decayed face leering at them in the hail. Those images would only be reinforced now by the rising of Nora Bellefonte. 

“It’s okay, baby boy,” she called, just loud enough that he could hear her over the noise Javier and Castle were making. Her condolence gained the attention of the rest of the group and the general mood of the room sobered rapidly. Lanie wrapped her arms loosely around Javier. Castle lifted Kevin up so he could slide towards the armrest. 

“Come over here, Kate,” he invited. Beckett regarded the tiny gap between her boyfriend and best friend skeptically. She was growing cold sitting across the room by herself but she didn’t think they’d all fit on the couch. She said as much.

“Of course we can fit,” said Lanie. “Miss Alexis over here is supermodel thin. She barely takes up any room.”

The college student blushed faintly at the compliment. “I don’t know about that…”

Lanie started shifting anyway. Alexis graciously tried to accommodate her mentor. She ended up squashed against the opposite armrest of her father. Beckett still doubted that it would be comfortable for any of them if she tried to force herself into their group, but the idea of being smooshed up warmly with her loved ones was too alluring to resist. She pushed herself up from the chair and climbed over Castle’s legs to squeeze into the seat. Castle shifted a bit more until he was sitting slightly sideways. Beckett lifted her feet up to rest on the coffee table and slid down until her head could rest against the back of the couch. She took Kevin from Castle since her position was more accommodating for the toddler than his.

Castle picked up their conversation again. “We’ve met some interesting characters over the last week.”

“That’s for sure,” agreed Beckett. “Even though she was too busy to actually answer any of my questions, Bianca took the time to insist that I let her have more access to the boys.”

“I don’t want to see another witch, ever again,” muttered Kevin. Beckett pressed her lips to the top of his head and inhaled the soft scent of the baby shampoo Castle had picked up somewhere along the way. 

“When are they going to break this curse?” asked Javier. 

“Soon, I hope,” said Beckett. She’s miss this closeness but she would gladly give up her own motherly feelings if it meant her partners were freed from their misery. “I could stand a couple more witches if that’s what it takes to undo the spell. However, I never want to see Rayford Bellefonte again unless it’s through the crosshairs of my gun.”

“That guy has one seriously creepy Oedipus complex,” said Castle. Beckett could feel his shudder. 

“He’s just creepy, period,” said Javier. 

“I hear his brother is easier on the eyes,” said Lanie. “And he’s a doctor.”

“So?” Javier looked up at her unhappily. 

“What? You’re yesterday’s news, honey. Besides, you’ve moved on already.”

“He’s no good for you,” argued Javier with a pout. “His family is deranged.”

“Oh, stop being jealous,” scolded Lanie. “He’s too old for me, anyway.”

Beckett was glad that Lanie had only been teasing her ex-boyfriend. It would be way too weird to see her friend with the fertility doctor. Randy Bellefonte was the least trying of the witches with whom Beckett had interacted. Still, she couldn’t imagine wanting to deal with him after the curse was broken and his ex-wife’s murder was solved. He reminded her too much of the recent strife in her life. 

“This week hasn’t been all bad,” said Alexis. “You’ve had some good times.”

“That’s true,” agreed Beckett. “Yesterday was a good day.”

“I like your boat,” Javier informed Castle. “And your pool.”

“It’s good to be appreciated for something, even if it is just my material possessions,” said Castle with a theatrical brood.

“It was fun to play in the park,” said Kevin in a small voice. Beckett couldn’t see his face but from the way he leaned more heavily against her, she could tell the late hour was starting to get to him. Javier seemed energetic enough but his bursts of activity were intermixed with a few wide yawns. 

“All of the other fathers were jealous of how well my kids played football,” gloated Castle. 

“And of how well you cheated,” teased Alexis. Beckett wished she could have caught more than just the tail end of her boys’ game that first afternoon after the transformation. 

“I did not cheat. I simply bent a few of the rules,” retorted Castle. 

“Bent, broke, same difference,” said Javier. He smirked cutely at the writer. 

“You were my ineligible receiver ninety percent of the time, brat, so don’t think you’re above reproach, either.”

“I enjoyed making dinner together on Wednesday,” said Beckett to change the subject. “I wish I could have been around more of the time.”

“You’re working hard to fix this mess,” said Castle. “You have the most important role of us all.”

“You could work a little faster,” said Javier dryly. Beckett laughed incredulously and smacked his arm. 

“You’re so ungrateful.”

“Poor Kate worked so hard she made herself sick,” said Castle. “The flu and everything.”

“It’s good to know that you’ll take such good care of me if I’m ever ill again,” said Beckett. She turned to Lanie. “He left me in the care of a six-year-old.”

“I did a great job,” said Javier. 

“You did a horrible job,” countered Castle. “You had one task: keep Kate in bed. You failed miserably. And then you failed again an hour later when I was off at the jewelry show.”

“Well, you left us in a boring hotel room.”

“That doesn’t change anything.” The two males glared at each other until Beckett broke up their stare by waving her hand between them. 

“Both of those instances were my fault,” she stated to end the debate. “Though, I only regret the second.”

“Of course,” said Castle dryly. He yawned himself. “I think one thing we can all agree on is that this week has been exhausting.”

“Thank goodness for caffeine,” said Beckett. “Though, I don’t think the world’s biggest coffee could save me from sleep right now.”

“Girlfriend, you’ve been on your last leg since we left the city,” said Lanie. “You should call it a night.”

“I might.” She glanced at the clock. She hadn’t registered the chimes heralding the ten o’clock hour but it was almost eleven by then. “Anyone need anything before I go?”

“We’ll probably all follow you shortly,” said Castle. “Take Kevin with you. He’s pretty much gone already.”

“Not sleepy,” argued the toddler drowsily. Beckett let Castle take the blond from her temporarily so she could push herself off the couch. She stretched briefly before reaching down for her younger partner. He wasn’t doing a very good impression of someone who wasn’t sleepy. His heavy head rested on her shoulder and he didn’t even make the effort to wrap his little arms around her neck for balance. 

“You coming, Javi?”

“Not yet,” he replied. Beckett eyed him for a minute before deciding that he probably could force himself to stay awake a little bit longer. She didn’t like that her partners were avoiding sleep because of the bad dreams that plagued them. She’d ask Lanie later if there was something that could be given to the boys to help them sleep more soundly. 

Castle stood to give her a brief kiss good-night. Beckett felt the fatigue pull at her muscles as she climbed the stairs by herself. She didn’t even pause at the top of the landing. She headed directly towards the master suite. She would not leave her partner alone in a distant bedroom and she couldn’t summon the energy to sit with him until Javier decided to come to bed. After the revelations of that afternoon, the weak protection of the wards gave Beckett very little comfort at all.

_to be continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.


	30. Second Saturday Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Castle and Beckett go on a date...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Thirty

By the time Beckett trudged downstairs the next morning, the first floor of Castle’s house was already in a state of chaos. She nearly did an about face and retreated to the safety of the second floor. However, the enticing smell of fresh coffee drew her towards the kitchen instead. She was rather grateful that she’d thought to put on a bra and mostly fresh clothes before wandering into the craziness. She hadn’t expected there to be quite so many strangers running in and out of the house at eight in the morning. 

Martha was stationed in the deluxe kitchen, directing catering traffic. No food had actually arrived yet, but the workers clad in pristine white uniforms were hurrying about trying to set up tables and making room in the industrial sized refrigerator for their chilled selections. A small corner of the countertop had been protectively roped off for the coffee bar. After greeting the energetic redhead, Beckett made a beeline for the espresso machine. While she waited for the dark roasted beans to finish grinding she watched Martha do her thing. Beckett knew that the older woman had a passion for acting but she was quite talented at directing. For the most part, the madness in the kitchen seemed to have some method to it. 

Once her espresso was pressed and her milk frothed, Beckett snatched up the abandoned morning paper and headed for the slightly quieter breakfast nook. She sat down with the intention of watching the action and flipping through the local gossip rag before seeking out her missing boyfriend. She’d awoken by herself that morning, though there was evidence that her lover had joined her at some point. Castle must have moved Kevin to Javier’s room because the toddler had also been missing from the wide bed that morning. Beckett had found him curled up with his partner before heading downstairs. 

The paper was still ensconced in its thin plastic sleeve. Beckett pulled it out so she could lay it flat on the round table. She was somewhat curious to see what the rest of the world was up to while her small corner of it seemed to falling apart so spectacularly. Most of the front page was dedicated to the day’s celebration of their country’s independence. The parade through the heart of the town seemed like it could be fun, and most importantly, crowded. It would at least be something she could do with her boys while Castle prepared for his party. She already knew about the fireworks show from the marina. Castle made it sound like they would be able to see the show from his backyard. 

She flipped to the next page which was dedicated to the happenings in the state of New York. She was up to date on most of the current events so she idly turned the page again. Southampton was a much smaller municipality than Manhattan; therefore, their local interest columns appeared closer to the front of the paper. At least the expensive little town had an abundance of celebrities to fill their readers’ daily dose of gossip.

Her hazel eyes were drawn to the largest heading, both because of the size of the font and the appearance of her lover’s name. She was no stranger to seeing Castle’s name and image in the paper. Still, this headline had her heart sinking almost instantly.

> _Best-Selling Author Richard Castle to Extend his Family? _  
> **by Trish Mathers**
> 
> _The master of the macabre has once again taken up residence at his beautiful sea-side home in our quaint little town of Southampton. While the best-selling author of the wildly popular Derek Storm novels is a familiar sight around here, usually accompanied by his lady of the week, this time Mr. Castle’s companions were from a completely different generation._
> 
> _Neighbors of the typically gregarious bachelor claim that two little boys have been staying with our friend, Rick. He’s kept them mostly out of sight, which isn’t surprising to those of us familiar with the author’s paternal protectiveness of his daughter, Alexis. The beautiful young lady is now a freshman at Columbia University in New York City. However, Rick did take the adorable tykes to our local outdoor market towards the middle of the week._
> 
> _But who are these two new additions to Mr. Castle’s fairytale life? The author has been dedicatedly single after his second divorce. He’s often seen at the Sand Bar with various lucky ladies. The only females to regularly grace the handsome man’s arm are his daughter and mother, Martha Rodgers. A source close to the family claims that the two boys are actually the sons of Rick’s girlfriend. It’s clear that he has a huge heart. He seemed happy to take care of the kids that resulted from his date’s previous relationships._
> 
> _Get out your handkerchiefs, ladies. It does appear to be true that the once available stud is now off the market. The Castle family was sighted at the Southampton Yacht Club this past Thursday. Besides Alexis and Martha, Rick’s mysterious girlfriend and kids were there, too. The group looked quite cozy on the author’s new cruiser yacht, both before and after their short trip to Montauk for the firework show._
> 
> _Rumor has it that the brunette bombshell who stole Rick’s heart is none other than the inspiration for his new sensational crime-solving heroine, Nikki Heat. While the detective in the books doesn’t have any children, maybe the real Nikki’s kids will serve as inspiration for some Rook/Heat offspring. One can only hope!_
> 
> _Either way, if Rick does settle down with his new lover and their families combine, we’ll definitely look forward to seeing more of the cute kids around town. Happy Fourth of July!_

Beckett could deal with the media’s constant intrusions into her boyfriend’s life. The flowery puff piece with its over the top descriptions and wild speculation was annoying but bearable. She was irked about the continued defamation of her character. Still, she didn’t care what any of these pompous gossipers thought about her.

What did bother Beckett very much was the series of pictures that accompanied the article. There was one large picture and three smaller ones. The small images were captures from the afternoon and showed the group making their way towards Castle’s cruiser. In one, Alexis and Martha were watching the boys point out an amusing moniker for one of the yachts. The second showed Castle lifting Javier onto the _Gloria Scott_ , with Beckett and Kevin waiting a few steps away. The third picture was of Javier and Kevin exploring the open cockpit while Castle beckoned for Beckett to proceed him into the upper saloon. 

The large picture had been taken late at night when they had arrived back at the marina. Beckett was in the forefront of the shot, carrying the soundly sleeping Kevin. Just beyond and a little ahead of her was Castle, guiding along a heavy-eyed Javier. All four of their faces were clearly visible in the stolen moment. 

The lead detective cursed herself for not noticing the cameraman. She and Castle had worked so hard to keep the boys’ identities hidden from those who wished to do them further ill and now their faces were all over the Southampton newspaper for any witch to snatch up. It wouldn’t be long until other media outlets picked up the story like ferocious piranhas. Beckett did not doubt for one minute that more pictures existed somewhere of their Thursday outing. 

Her latte had gone cold and bitter while she read the article. Beckett folded up the newspaper so she could take it with her as she disposed of her drink and then sought out her boyfriend. She had just finished washing out the mug when Lanie entered the kitchen. The medical examiner looked much more presentable than the detective in her flattering sundress and carefully styled hair. “You look like you’re already having a rough morning, girlfriend.” Lanie frowned as she met Beckett’s eye. 

“Someone took pictures of the boys while we were at the marina Thursday,” said Beckett. She opened the newspaper again and handed it to Lanie. 

Lanie barely glanced at the photos or the accompanying article. She returned the paper to her friend. “I don’t know how Castle puts up with this. Are you sure you want to be a part of it?”

“Usually it doesn’t bother me,” said Beckett. “The press finds me much less interesting than Castle which suits me just fine. What I don’t like is them going after my boys.” Beckett wondered if this was what high blood pressure felt like. Why could people not just leave them alone?

“You can’t let yourself get all worked up over it,” said Lanie. “Look, you and Castle have been going a hundred miles an hour since last Friday. You need to take a break and regroup.”

“We relaxed on Thursday,” argued Beckett. 

“You need a break from this curse,” countered Lanie. “Just you and Castle. Go out to breakfast and take a long walk. I’ll stay with the guys.”

“But I can’t leave them here alone.” Beckett felt slightly panicked at the idea of her partners being separated from both her and Castle at the same time. What if one of the witches tried to attack them? What if one of the boys needed her? There was still no news on the whereabouts of Rayford Bellefonte. 

“This house is full of people,” countered Lanie. “We’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Who’s going to be fine?” Beckett’s head snapped up at the sound of Castle’s voice. He was dressed in a pair of worn jeans and an old t-shirt. A slight ring of moisture followed the line of his crew neck collar and matched the sheen of sweat on his forehead. Beckett supposed he had been helping set up tables near the pool. 

“Both of you,” said Lanie. “Like I was telling Kate, you both need to take an hour or two to regain your bearings. I think you should take her out for a nice, easy breakfast while I stay here with Javier and Kevin.”

“I like that idea, but can I ask what brought it about? Are you okay, Kate?”

Beckett tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m just a little overwhelmed,” she admitted. “Look.” She passed the paper to the writer. 

“Did someone try to blow up the city again?” asked Castle. His joke was met with silence. He flipped through the pages quickly. It took him only a second to find the article that had upset the detective. “Shit.”

“What are we going to do, Castle?” asked Beckett. “The photographer got clear shots of both of the boys’ faces.”

“What we’re not going to do is panic,” said the writer. “No one reads this rubbish anyway. I agree with Lanie. Let me go get cleaned up. I know a classy little diner that makes delectable omelets. It’s also very close to the headquarters of this little paper. We’ll get the rest of the photographs they no doubt have laying around.”

“Okay.” Beckett felt a little better now that they had a plan. “I’m going to go check on the boys again.”

“They’re still asleep,” said the writer. He pulled a small, white walkie-talkie looking device from his belt and held it up for the two women to see.

Lanie let out a short laugh. “Do they know you put a baby monitor in their room?”

“Hopefully not,” said the writer. “Come on, Kate. Let’s get dressed.” Beckett took his offered hand and let him lead her back to the master bedroom. She slipped on a slightly nicer shirt and a pair of comfortable shorts while Castle took a quick shower. She took the few extra minutes she had to wander across the bridge to Javier’s room. Lanie was within as well, reading a book in the window seat while she waited for the junior detectives to decide to greet the day. 

Beckett adjusted the covers around her slumbering partners. Javier’s brow crinkled slightly at the jostling but his eyes remained shut. They looked peaceful at the moment, having finally managed to find some nightmare-free sleep in the late morning. 

“I never thought I’d see you acting so motherly,” commented Lanie softly. “It’s a good look on you.”

Beckett blushed slightly. “I kind of want a baby of my own, now,” she admitted. “I like taking care of them.”

“I’ve heard there’s nothing more rewarding than parenthood,” said the medical examiner. 

Beckett joined her best friend at the window. She sat down on the cushioned seat and looked over the ocean. The day was starting out beautifully. She and Lanie made small talk until Castle came to find her for their impromptu date. 

xXx

It didn’t take long for Castle to realize that Lanie was a genius. Though he still found himself glancing over his shoulder regularly to make sure no one was following them, his paranoia had toned down noticeably. He took a deep breath of the slightly salty air and exhaled slowly. Some of the stress from the past week eased out of his shoulders. Kate looked over at him curiously. Castle squeezed their intertwined fingers briefly. “This was a good idea.”

“Yeah,” agreed Kate. Castle pushed open the door to the diner and let Kate step through first. A little bell chimed to alert the hostess to their arrival. A young woman with a perky smile greeted them after a few seconds. 

“Welcome to Lila’s Diner, Mr. Castle.”

“Thank you… Jessica.” The girl’s smile widened even further, even though the writer had only read her name off her nametag. 

“I saw the article about you in the paper this morning,” gushed the hostess. She turned to Kate. “Are you really Mr. Castle’s girlfriend?”

“Unfortunately,” said Kate with a deadpan expression. Jessica giggled at the detective’s “joke”. Castle worried that Kate wasn’t being as funny as Jessica gave her credit for. To his relief, the young woman left them alone after showing them to a corner booth and handing them each a laminated menu. Castle already had a favorite menu item in mind so he passed the time watching Kate while she searched for her own meal. 

It turned out that Jessica was also their waitress. She returned a few minutes later with a carafe of the house blend and two mugs. She left again with their selections, promising to put in their order right away. 

Castle reached across the table to take Kate’s hand. She smiled softly at him. “I love you,” he blurted out suddenly. He really did, too. Sure, he’d told other women as much, including his two ex-wives. It was different, though. He felt differently about the strong, independent woman across from him than he did about his daughter’s mother or his book agent. 

“I love you, too,” Kate replied softly. “I don’t know what I’d do anymore without you.”

“I am pretty spectacular when it comes to solving murders,” boasted the author. Kate let out a surprised laugh. 

“You have your moments, I guess,” she conceded eventually. “I was thinking more along the lines of our personal lives.”

“I know.” He tightened his hold on her hand. “If I could, I’d spend every waking moment with you.”

“Even if I tend to do risky and dangerous things?”

“All the more reason to never let you out of my sight,” rejoined Castle. “Though, if you could do fewer of those things, it might improve my life expectancy.” He smiled widely at her. She ducked her head and ran her fingers over her ear even though there were no loose strands of hair tickling the edge of her face. 

“What are we going to do, Rick?” 

“About what?”

“Everything. Anything.”

“We’re going to keep living and loving each other. I know you want to keep Javi and Kevin if we can’t figure this out. I’m not going to leave the three of you,” promised Castle. “I meant it yesterday when I said that I love them, too.”

“I know you did.” Kate sniffled slightly and turned to stare out the window. Castle watched a solitary tear sparkle on her lower eyelash as she blinked back its friends. He waited patiently for her to regain her composure. “I want that. To have a family with you.”

“Me too.” Castle thought about the black velvet box tucked away in the back of his closet safe at the Manhattan loft. He’d gone immediately to the jeweler after Kate’s most recent brush with death in the booby-trapped apartment. The moment had never been quite right and then they’d found Seraphina Valduerez’s body in that alley…

He wanted to do something special, anyway. A helicopter ride followed by a fancy dinner sounded like a good plan. Since he couldn’t do anything at the moment, he returned to Kate’s last statement. “So, how many kids were you thinking?”

“Oh, two or three,” replied the detective. “I always wanted a sibling growing up.”

“Yeah,” agreed Castle. 

“How many do you want?”

“Twenty-three.”

Kate’s jaw dropped and she looked at him in shock for a minute before shaking her head with a chuckle. “Why so many?”

“So we can have one for every letter of the alphabet. See, I started the trend with Alexis. Javier and Kevin are at least in order, but we’ll have to get right to work filling in the gap.” Kate laughed outright and had to take a sip of water to regain enough composure to respond. 

“Castle, I am not popping out twenty-three babies. Besides, what would you even name the poor child stuck with X?”

“That’s easy,” replied the author. “It’d be a little girl and her name would be Xena.”

“I’m not naming any daughter of mine after a warrior princess,” argued Kate. “At least R would be straightforward.”

“How so?”

“A little boy named Richard.” Castle made a face. He wasn’t overly fond of naming sons after their fathers. Kate stuck her tongue out at his expression. 

They didn’t have a chance to go through the rest of the alphabet. Their food arrived and they dug in. Castle hadn’t realized how hungry he was until the delicious omelet hit his taste buds. Kate tucked into her breakfast with equal fervor. They were nearly finished by the time Jessica came to check on their progress and refill the coffee carafe. When her hunger was partially satiated and she had slowed down between bites, Kate offered up another suggestion. “If you don’t like Richard, maybe we could use R for Roy.”

“That’s a good name,” replied Castle. He briefly thought about the late police captain. Even though his storied career had ended on a low note, there were few men whom Castle respected more that Roy Montgomery. 

“What about M for Martha?”

“Oh, Mother would become much too full of herself if we named a child after her,” said Castle. He made a scared face at Kate, drawing out another genuine laugh. “Though, if Javier somehow manages to become an adult again, I think we should reserve J for Johanna.”

“I’d like that,” said Kate softly. She stared fondly into Castle’s eyes until the moment was interrupted by the arrival of their check. 

“You two seem very much in love,” said Jessica shyly as she handed the bill holder to Castle. “I hope everything works out for you.”

“Thank you, dear,” said Castle. He made sure to leave her an extra large tip. 

He and Kate left the diner the same way they’d entered - hand in hand. Even the impending confrontation with a nosy journalist could not dampen the writer’s spirits at that moment. He already had the perfect story in mind for how to get Ms. Mathers to give up the rest of her photographs. It centered around illegal arms trafficking, violent murders, witness protection, and vengeful biological parents intent on getting their sons back by any means necessary. Castle was very sure that Beckett would not approve in the least. 

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, I’m finally back from my trip. I didn’t forget about _Spellbound_ , I just didn’t have reliable access to the internet. Hopefully the wait was bearable. 
> 
> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.


	31. Second Saturday Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Javier starts to fall apart...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Thirty-One

Before they’d left for their impromptu date, Lanie had insisted that Castle keep Kate out for no less than two hours. The writer checked his watch as they walked up to the front door of his summer home. He’d done well. They’d been gone for one hundred and thirty six minutes. It was nearly noon. The party was set to start around three. Hopefully Anna, his party planner, wasn’t too upset at him for bailing on most of the preparation. Oh well, that was why he paid her the big bucks to organize his fête. 

Castle barely managed to close the front door behind himself and Kate before a small body smashed into his legs and grabby hands were tugging at his shirt. “You’re back!”

“What, did you think we were gone forever?” Castle pried the little fingers from his cotton polo and guided the toddler a few steps back so he could kneel down and match the kid’s eye level. “Where’s Lanie?”

“She’s upstairs,” answered Kevin. “Where did you go?”

“To breakfast. If you weren’t so lazy this morning, you could have ate, too.” Not that you would have eaten any of it, he thought to himself. Castle poked the Irishman in the belly. Kevin giggled and tried to catch the larger hand in his own. Castle skillfully avoided capture. He raised an eyebrow at the simple round decal on the front of Kevin’s gray t-shirt. It consisted of a white stair transposed on a blue circle in the middle of alternating red and white rings. “Captain America, huh? That’s oddly appropriate for today.”

Kevin glanced down to inspect his own shirt. He looked up at Castle and shrugged. Apparently he hadn’t noticed the coincidence when he’d picked out the top.

“Where’s Javi?” inquired Kate. She glanced around the currently empty living room but did not see her older partner. 

Kevin’s blue eyes were wide when he answered. “Javi said he cannot come down to the party.”

“Why, what’s wrong?” asked Kate. Her tone was heavy with concern. 

“The curse is making him fall apart. He won’t eat because his teeth are wiggling. He’s afraid if he moves too much one might fall out. It’s probably just a matter of time before the rest of his body starts to decompose.”

“Oh my god…” Kate made to bolt for the stairs as if she could do anything to reverse the new disease that was ravaging her junior detective. Castle caught her hand before she got too far. “Castle!” The panicked look in her eyes would have made the author laugh if he hadn’t realized she was genuinely fearful. 

“Calm down,” insisted Castle. He looked over at Kevin and pinched the toddler’s side when he saw the barely hidden mirth in the blond’s expression. “Do not scare your mother like that, you little imp.”

“What?” Kate stopped tugging on Castle’s hand to look between her boyfriend and partner in confusion. 

Castle rose to his full height, snagging one of Kevin’s hands on his way up. “Kate. Breathe for a second. Nothing is wrong with Javier.”

“But Kevin said Javi’s teeth are falling out and…”

“I know,” interrupted the author. “Think about it. He’s six. Six-year-olds are supposed to lose their baby teeth.”

“Oh.” Kate blushed slightly when she realized that she’d over-reacted. She rounded on her other partner. “You made it sound like he was dying, Kevin.”

“You should have seen your face,” chuckled the Irishman. 

“You are so going to get it,” promised Kate. Kevin tried to run from her but he couldn’t escape Castle’s hold. The writer valiantly positioned himself between the two, risking his own well-being by shielding Kate’s quarry from her. 

“Come on. We need to go find my video recorder because there is no way I’m not getting this on film. Then we’ll go check on poor toothless Javier.” Kate continued to fume as Kevin giggled the whole way to the master suite. Castle finally let them go when they were inside the bedroom so he could retrieve the recorder from the shelf in his closet. He took his time making sure the battery was fully charged and he had a blank tape ready to go as he listened to Kate tickle the toddler until he screamed for mercy. 

He ended up carrying the red-faced toddler across the bridge towards the guest rooms as Kevin struggled to regain his breath. Kate walked self-righteously in front of them with her chin held high. Her confident stride faltered as they got closer to Javier’s bedroom. She looked back at Castle nervously. “I know it’s normal for little kids to lose their teeth, but he’s not really six,” she said. “Are you sure he’s okay?”

“Well, I’m not sure about anything,” admitted Castle. “But I really think he’s fine.” 

Kate knocked hesitantly on the door. Lanie called for her to enter. Castle managed to get his camera rolling with just the use of one hand. Inside the room, Lanie sat at the foot of the bed while Javier curled up next to her looking absolutely miserable. Kate rubbed her hand over his small back. “Hey, sweetheart.”

Javier turned his head slightly to acknowledge her greeting. He caught sight of the camera out of the corner of his eye. He scowled fiercely. “Really, Castle, now?”

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Smile, Javi.”

“Fu-… No.”

“Pretty please?” Castle set Kevin down and moved closer to the bed. The toddler gave Kate a wide berth as he made his way to Lanie’s side. 

“What happened to you?” asked the medical examiner as she ran her thumb under the toddler’s eye to brush away the tear tracks. 

“I made Beckett mad,” he replied seriously. He pulled himself onto the bed and into Lanie’s lap so he could have a front row seat to his partner’s misery. Kate shot him another dark look, though there wasn’t much heat left in it. She was satisfied with the torture she’d doled out earlier. 

“Don’t be shy, buddy,” cajoled Castle. He grasped Javier’s hand so he could pull the six-year-old into a seated position. He wisely kept the camera out of the boy’s limited reach so he had to make do with zooming in on Javier’s unhappy expression. “Which tooth is loose?”

“I keep trying to tell him that he has nothing to worry about,” said Lanie. “He’s convinced the curse is causing him to waste away.” She brushed her hand over Javier’s forehead. Kate sat down and continued to try to soothe her partner. 

“Well, we’ll never know unless he lets me look,” said Castle. “I’ll be able to tell if you’re dying or just being a baby once you open your mouth.” Javier did open his mouth, but just enough to tell Castle exactly where to go and how to get there. The author made a mental note to put an R-rating on this tape for language. 

“Losing one’s baby teeth is perfectly natural,” said Castle once his ears had stopped ringing. “Alexis made a small fortune off the tooth fairy when she was your age. You should be excited.”

“I’m not excited,” snapped Javier. “Don’t patronize me. I’m not six.”

“Newsflash, buddy. Your body thinks otherwise.” Castle wondered if Javier would bite him if the writer tried to pry the boy’s mouth open with his fingers. The likelihood seemed high. 

“You think this is funny,” whined Javier. His breath hitched as he glared at the camera. 

“I think it’s tragically hilarious. Come on, Javi, don’t cry about it. You’re not going to let this get to you, are you?”

“How would you like it?” demanded the Hispanic detective. He sniffled. Kate abandoned rubbing his back to wrap her arms fully around him. “What if they don’t grow back?”

“They will. If it makes you feel better, I’ll take you to the dentist so you can get x-rays to prove there are grown-up teeth behind your baby ones.”

“Really?” Javier wiped his hand under his eye to erase the few tears that had leaked out. 

“If it comes to that,” said Castle with a long-suffering sigh. “Let me see.”

Javier sat up a little straighter and bared his teeth at the writer. Castle couldn’t really tell which of the tiny white teeth was loose. From experience, he guessed it was one of the lower incisors. He cupped Javier’s jaw with his right hand and gently pulled down the boy’s lower lip with his thumb. It was kind of awkward with the camera but the sacrifice was surely worth it. “Which one?” he asked.

Javier pressed his pink tongue against the back of his bottom teeth. The right center tooth moved noticeably under the pressure. He grew a little self-conscious when he registered the curious stares of the other three occupants in the room. He pulled his face away from Castle’s hand. “Am I wasting away?”

“Probably not,” replied Castle teasingly. “I think your chances of surviving this are pretty good.”

“You’re an asshole, jerk.”

“Maybe losing your teeth is punishment for your foul language,” commented Castle. Javier considered that for about half a second. 

“No, I don’t think so.” Castle shrugged. It was worth a try. 

“I hope you like ice cream, buddy. Once all your teeth have fallen out and you’ve nothing left but gums, that’s about the only thing you’ll be able to eat.”

“Don’t tease him like that,” chided Lanie. “He’s freaked out enough.” Her wide smile belaid her own amusement at the situation.

“I want some ice cream,” announced Kevin. Castle shifted the focus to the toddler. He looked fully recovered from Kate’s tickling. 

“What did you eat for breakfast?”

“Why does that matter?”

“Only little boys who are deathly ill get ice cream for breakfast. The last I checked, you are not wasting away like your partner.”

“It’s lunchtime, anyway,” argued Kevin. 

“The rules still apply,” said Castle. He stood up from his kneeling position before the bed. He was starting to get too old for staying in that pose for an extended period of time. He offered his hand to Javier. “What’s your pleasure, kiddo? Death by Chocolate or Cookies’n’Cream?”

Javier let Castle pull him off the bed. He looked up earnestly at the older man. “Won’t the Oreo chunks cause the tooth to fall out more quickly?”

“That’s a good point. Death by Chocolate it is.” Castle turned off the camera as he led the group out of the bedroom. Javier kept his little hand tucked securely in Castle’s as they walked. Kevin hurried to Castle’s other side and tugged on the author’s shirt while he whined about wanting ice cream, too. 

Fifteen minutes later, Castle contentedly watched his two little boys dig into their bowls of ice cream while Kate and Lanie disappeared to do whatever it was women did to prepare for social gatherings. He’d relented and dished a scoop for the Irishman once Lanie corroborated his story that Martha had indeed managed to get the toddler to eat half a bowl of instant oatmeal while Castle and Beckett were out. 

Javier looked up at Castle with a small frown. “Hey, Castle?”

“What’s up, buddy?”

“What if the witches can undo the spell before my tooth grows back?”

“What about it?”

“Do you think the adult tooth will come back or will it be missing permanently?”

“I don’t know,” said Castle honestly. “If you’re worried about that, I suppose you could stay small until they’ve all fallen out and grown back.”

“Nah, it’s not worth it,” decided Javier. 

Castle did his best to ignore the summons from his mother and event planner for a little bit longer as he sat in the breakfast nook and enjoyed the moment. 

xXx

Beckett hummed quietly to herself as she finished pulling her brush through her shining hair. The repetitive motion soothed her slightly and she was able to focus on her preparations. Still, she glanced at her silent cell-phone nearly every other minute to make sure she hadn’t missed a text message. After setting her brush down, she reached over to check that it hadn’t managed to turn itself off. It came to life instantly and the little battery icon in the upper corner indicated that it was fully charged. There was no word yet from the precinct that Rayford Bellefonte had been apprehended. Neither Bianca nor Randy had called to pass along any information on the state of the witchy community. She had no updates from Demming regarding his well-being. 

The senior detective forced herself to slip the phone into the small clutch that matched her cream colored sundress. The light linen material would help keep her cool under the intense July sun. She had taken a little extra time to make herself look striking. She didn’t care what the gossipers of Southampton thought of her but feeling good about herself would make their misinformed opinions easier to bear. 

Beckett had invited Lanie to the little parade in order to pass the time until the party commenced. The more she thought about it, the less she felt comfortable taking her boys outside of the protective wards. The silence from the city worried her more than it should. Hopefully, Lanie would not mind the change in plans. 

Speaking of her best friend, the medical examiner appeared in the doorway to the master bathroom. Lanie whistled lowly. “Damn, it’s nice in here.”

Beckett grinned. “You should see the Jacuzzi.”

“I’m looking at it,” replied Lanie. “Don’t let this one get away, girlfriend.”

“I’m not planning on it.” Beckett checked her reflection one last time. In the mirror she could see Lanie discretely looking around the huge room appreciatively. “Hey, Lanie?”

“Yes?”

“Would you be horribly disappointed if we skipped the parade?”

“I’d understand why,” replied the medical examiner. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you and Castle have been jumping at shadows the whole time we’ve been here.”

“We’re probably over-reacting,” admitted Beckett. “I just… I shudder every time I remember the way Rayford looked at me yesterday. I can’t shake the feeling that something horrible is going to happen the second that I let my guard down.”

“I’d tell you not to worry but that would probably actually be bad advice.” Lanie sat on the edge of the Jacuzzi tub and smoothed her cotton dress over her thighs. “Didn’t you say that one of the witches you partially trust is keeping tabs on the boys’ location?”

“Bianca has apparently cast tracking spells on both of them now, yes,” said Beckett. “Still, I don’t have any faith in that, or the wards, doing much to prevent an attack.”

“Well, from the way you describe what happened at the visitation, it seems to me that you should be more concerned with your own safety,” said Lanie. 

“Rayford was making threats towards the boys in order to get under my skin long before his mother passed away,” recalled Beckett. “Not to mention, he’s a bit insane now.”

“He sounds more than a bit insane to me,” said Lanie. “I know you and Castle. Whatever happens, you’ll overcome it. Don’t count out Javier and Kevin’s ability to keep their cool in stressful situations, either. They’re small, yes, but they’re still them.”

“Javier freaked out because he has a loose tooth,” argued Beckett with a sardonic smile. “Hell, _I_ freaked out over it.” She let out a small, self-depreciating laugh. “Maybe Rayford won’t have to attack us. We’re doing a fine job driving ourselves mad.”

“Don’t be silly. You’re not used to being around little kids and you don’t know what to expect from them. Javi’s fine. Kevin’s fine. The sun is still rising and setting on schedule.”

Beckett sat next to her best friend on the edge of the tub. “How do you managed to stay so optimistic and calm?”

“Practice,” replied Lanie. “It helps that I’m not quite as emotionally invested in this little drama, too. Your partners are cute and all, and Javier knows how to treat a woman in the bedroom, but I don’t interact with them nearly as much as you do. You’ve practically been their mother for the last week. I think you’re starting to lose your objectivity where their well-being is concerned.”

Beckett should have been bothered by being compared to a mother in relation to her junior partners. In reality, all she was concerned about was whether or not she was doing a good job. She mentally shook her head and decided to change the subject. “There is one thing I don’t fully understand.”

“What’s that?”

“If Javier - okay, I can’t think about my little boy in that context - if Esposito is so good in bed with women and you’re so fond of him, why would he break it off with you?”

“ _I_ broke it off,” corrected Lanie. She smirked at her girl friend. “For all the ignorant, macho things he likes to spew about females and relationships, he’s actually quite attentive and respectful when he’s not trying to impress his other caveman peers.”

“I’ve seen glimpses of that,” confirmed Beckett. “Still, you guys looked so good together.”

“The heart wants what it wants,” said Lanie. “He didn’t even realize he wasn’t fully invested in our relationship until I pointed it out to him. Seeing you and Castle dance around each other for so long must have subconsciously made him desire that kind of relationship as well. Unfortunately, I just don’t think he wants it with me.”

“So how long do you think it will be before he admits his feelings?”

“Knowing that boy? Decades,” said Lanie. “You and Castle are so sure Javier has this all figured out and is just biding his time until the curse is lifted and he can profess some imaginary romantic feelings to his secret lover the second he’s big again. It’s not going to happen like that.”

“It could.”

“Girl, it took you and Castle five years to admit that you loved each other. We’d probably still be waiting for you to get your heads out of your asses if it weren’t for that whole fiasco with Maddox. Javier isn’t even completely sure what he feels or thinks and whomever you think it is that he supposedly ‘likes’ definitely doesn’t know.” 

“Why is love so complicated?”

“It’s not,” said Lanie. “People just make it such.” Beckett smiled wanly. She couldn’t argue with that. Lanie must have decided that it was time to move onto a different activity. She stood up and smiled at Beckett. “I’m hungry. Let’s go see if there’s any food set out yet to snag.”

The two women made their way downstairs. Most of the commotion was now outside, leaving the interior of the house quieter than it had been that morning. There was still some activity in the kitchen so the friends headed that way. 

Castle had been tasked with organizing the open bar while Anna, the event planner, awaited her tardy bartender. He waved in greeting with one hand while he held an expensive bottle of red wine in the other. He looked back and forth between the bottle and the bar as if he couldn’t quite decide if he wanted to share the drink with his guests or not. 

In the living room just off of the kitchen, Beckett spotted her partners. Kevin was curled up in the chair closest to the kitchen with a thick novel. Javier was lying on the couch with his legs draped over the armrest, playing with his phone. Lanie parted with Beckett to join the smaller detectives while Beckett leaned against the bar. 

“How was the ice cream?” she asked. 

“Delicious,” responded Castle. He placed the bottle in the crate destined to be returned to his wine cellar and picked up his next selection. That one was more easily donated to the rack under the bar. “You look beautiful, Kate.”

“Thank you,” she replied. She glanced down at her hands to hide her minute blush. 

The swinging door that concealed the butler’s pantry and the dining room beyond opened suddenly to reveal a middle-aged blonde woman dressed in a smart blouse and fitted pencil skirt. Beckett unconsciously sat up a little straighter as Castle’s second ex-wife approached them. 

“Detective Beckett,” greeted Gina with a rushed grin. 

“Gina, it’s good to see you,” replied the senior detective. The words were only partially forced. The book agent had been cordial enough to Castle’s newest inspiration during their brief interactions and was much less in-your-face than Meredith. Still, seeing Gina in Castle’s Southampton home reminded Beckett of the summer the two exes had spent together while Castle finished his second Nikki Heat book. She squashed down her unreasonable ping of jealousy. 

“Let me be the first to thank you for providing Rick with enough insight for another best-seller.” Gina’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I was a little surprised to learn that the rumors about the growing Castle family aren’t completely unfounded. Usually you have to take the word of the Southampton paper with a grain of salt.”

Beckett wanted to smack the “reporter” who’d written the article about her and the boys with the conveniently forgotten paper that rested at the far end of the bar. “The article did have its share of fallacies,” said Beckett. “They’re not mine from previous relationships. I’m in the process of adopting them.” She wondered how many more times she would have to correct that misconception throughout the day. 

“Ah,” said Gina. 

“Gina stopped by a little early to drop off the early reviews of _Deadly Heat_ ,” said Castle in an attempt to distract the two women and simultaneously explain his ex’s presence. “Not too shabby, I’d say.”

“When am I going to get my advance copy?” asked the detective.

“Rick, really, you haven’t given her one yet?” asked Gina. The agent shook her head. “I’ll get you one, dear,” she said, slightly artificially. She patted the back of Beckett’s hand where it rested on the bar. 

“I have it,” insisted Castle. “We’ve been busy lately and you had it delivered to the loft after I came up here so I haven’t had time to give it to her yet.” 

“Anyway,” said Gina, ignoring her ex-husband’s defense for withholding the manuscript, “I’m going to steal Anna for a few minutes to see if she can’t be convinced to plan my next event.” The agent smiled at Castle and Beckett in turn before walking confidently through the living room towards the door that overlooked the pool. Beckett frowned at the exaggerated sway to the woman’s hips. Fortunately for him, Castle was distracted by his wine selecting task. 

Gina paused as she passed Kevin’s chair. She considered the toddler for a minute, then looked in Castle and Beckett’s direction. Beckett narrowed her eyes as the agent leaned over to address her partner. “What are you reading, sweetie?” she asked in a voice that was meant to make her sound trustworthy but instead sounded a bit patronizing. 

Kevin didn’t verbally respond but held up the book so she could see the cover. He was about a fifth of the way through the hardcover book which he needed two hands to hold open. Beckett recognized the cover of the book easily. It was a first edition copy of one of James Patterson’s early Alex Cross novels. Her own copy of the book had been through multiple readings. She doubted it was the first time her partner had read it, either.

“That’s a very grown up book,” said Gina. She spoke in the same overly sweet voice that was making Beckett want to go brush her teeth. “It’s a special edition, too. The author, Mr. Patterson, signed the cover. Perhaps you should ask your mommy for a more age-appropriate book.” Kevin was too stunned to resist when she stole the book from him and snapped it shut, losing his place in the narrative.

“Hey,” protested Javier from his place on the couch. Lanie grabbed his arm to prevent him from confronting the agent when she saw Castle abandon the bar and make his way towards Gina and Kevin. Beckett followed a few steps behind him. 

“He’s not hurting it,” said Castle as he held his hand out for the book. Gina gave it to him, probably expecting him to return it to its rightful place on the bookshelf in the small library at the other end of the house. Instead, the author handed it back to the toddler. 

“It’s not my place to question your parenting, detective, but I really don’t think a murder mystery is suitable entertainment for a toddler. Can he even read yet?”

“You’re right, it’s not your place-” Beckett was cut off by Castle who gently squeezed her hand. 

“He’s quite precocious,” said the writer. “Besides, I’m more scandalized that he picked Alex Cross over Derek Storm.” Castle looked down at the little boy who was watching them with wide blue eyes. “What’s up with that, kiddo?” Kevin hugged the book nervously and peeked at Gina again. Beckett pushed forward so she could pick up her partner and settle him on her hip, book and all. She carried him over to the couch where Lanie was watching with sparkling eyes and a poorly concealed smile. Javier was silently fuming. 

“Okay,” said Gina skeptically. She adopted an air of indifference since the boy wasn’t hers to concern herself about and continued on her way to find the event planner. Castle sighed and walked over to the couch. He stood before his girlfriend and ran his hand over Kevin’s soft hair.

“She means well,” he said.

“She has a point,” agreed Lanie, softly. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d question giving a four-year-old a murder-mystery, too.”

“She can keep her opinions to herself,” stated Javier. He crawled over Lanie so he could sit next to Beckett and Kevin. He looked earnestly at his partner. “She was wrong to take the book from you.”

“It’s okay, Javi. She didn’t mean anything by it.” Kevin kicked his partner gently with his sock-covered foot. Javier didn’t look convinced that the agent’s lack of knowledge about the blond’s true age pardoned her actions. Beckett squeezed the little blond briefly and kissed his cheek before pushing him off of her lap so she could stand. 

“Do you need help with any preparations, Castle?”

“I don’t think so,” he replied. “Would either of you lovely ladies like a drink?”

“I want a drink, Castle,” said Javier as the group followed him back into the kitchen. 

“Yes, I figured as much,” teased the writer. “You always want something.”

“I do not.” Javier made a point to step on Castle’s foot as he moved to stand in the wash of cool air from the refrigerator the writer had just opened. Castle barely even flinched. He reached around the six-year-old to pull out a carafe of white grape juice. 

He poured a small glass for each of the boys, then located his corkscrew to open one of the chilled Chardonnays. “Grape juice for the kiddos, grape juice for the grownups.”

“We’re not kids,” protested Javier. To Beckett, it seemed like he was complaining merely to keep up appearances. He looked pretty content with his non-alcoholic grape drink. Anna came hurrying into the kitchen to scold Castle for opening the bar too early and then request that he join her outside to okay the final setup for the party. Beckett and Lanie directed the boys back to the living room so they’d all be out of the way.

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.


	32. Second Saturday Afternoon Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the party starts...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Thirty-Two

The rest of the guests started to arrive around three-thirty. Castle was kept busy giving tours and pointing out the nearest restrooms for nearly an hour. Martha and the event planner tried to herd the party-goers outside to gather around the pristine pool where most of the appetizers were located. Servers from the catering company wandered throughout the crowd with additional _hors d’ouvres_ and glasses of iced tea. Those with an appetite for stronger drinks were directed to the open bar. 

Castle found a spare minute to corner Kevin and Javier and lay down his ground rules for the party. “I don’t expect you two to socialize with all of the strangers if you don’t want to, but I am going to insist that you stay within my sight. You can hang out in the living room or play in the yard, okay? I’ll be near the barbeque most of the time, cooking up some famous Franks à la Castle.”

“You don’t have to baby-sit us,” complained Javier. Kevin mirrored his partner’s pout. 

“I’m not. Look, there will be a lot of people coming and going from the house today and some of them I barely know their names. Someone could easily steal one of you right from the house.” Kevin knew that Castle wasn’t trying to patronize them - he was genuinely concerned about letting the cursed detectives out of his sight. The younger detective had been involved with enough kidnapping cases to know that it was quite common for children to be abducted while they were supposedly being watched. 

“Just so you know, you’re being paranoid and over-protective,” said Javier. “We’re police detectives, not children. But if it makes you feel better, I suppose there could be more boring things to do than keep an eye on your party.”

“Thank you, I think.” Castle prodded Javier in the side. The older boy jumped out of reach of his fingers.

“Richard, there you are,” called Martha. She walked over to the trio of males, leaving an invisible trail of sweet smelling perfume in her wake. “Penny D’Angelo and her sister Candace just arrived. They’re looking for you.” Martha looked down at the detectives and her smile seemed almost apologetic. Kevin instantly felt nervous.

The two sisters had apparently followed the redhead. They appeared in the living room, accompanied by a quintet of kids. Martha’s expression made perfect sense now. Kevin backed himself and Javier into Castle’s protective shadow as the writer turned to greet his guests. 

“Rick, I hope you don’t mind,” said the shorter woman. “When I read the article this morning in the paper about your girlfriend’s children, I thought it might be fun for them to have someone their own age to play with.” Her smile was too bright to be genuine. “Not to mention, it saves Candace and I from having to call in the nanny on a holiday.”

“Of course not, that’s very thoughtful of you,” said Castle. “Ow!”

“Are you all right?” asked Penny worriedly. 

“Yes, fine,” replied the writer. He blindly swatted behind himself, trying to smack Javier who had justifiably poked the sharp end of his smart phone’s stylus into the writer’s back. 

“I spoke with Ilana Temple on our way over here. She’s planning to bring her children, too.”

“Great,” said Castle in a strained voice. This time he was ready and caught Javier’s hand. He relieved the Hispanic detective of his stylus and slipped the plastic pen into his pocket. “I have a few sports balls and there’s the pool if everyone brought their swimsuits.”

“I like soccer,” announced one of the older boys. He was about three inches taller than Javier and twice as wide. Kevin unwillingly flashed back to his real childhood. He wondered if Castle would believe that he suddenly came down with a bad bug.

“I have a soccer ball,” said the writer. “Let me go find it and I’ll meet you all outside.” 

The two women and their brood of smelly kids agreed to wait without while Castle located a ball. Kevin and Javier each latched onto one of the older man’s hands to prevent him from leaving. “We don’t want to play with the little kids,” insisted Kevin. “I want to stay with you.”

“Can you just pretend for a few minutes? You might have fun. You liked playing football in Central Park.”

“That was different.”

“How?”

Kevin actually couldn’t think of a good reason. “It just was.”

Castle knelt down to be at eye level with his friends. “Think of it as a favor, then. I wasn’t really expecting there to be a bunch of kids here today and the house hasn’t been child-proofed. If you two can keep them occupied and out of trouble, I’ll owe you hugely.”

Castle turned his best puppy-face on the boys. Javier managed to last a little longer than his partner, but eventually the older detective sighed. “When we’re big again, you’re going to owe us like a month each with the Ferrari.”

Castle looked pained but he agreed after a few seconds. “Thanks, guys.”

Ten minutes later, Kevin found himself out in Castle’s backyard, staring wistfully at the crashing waves down by the beach. Javier stood next to him, toeing the soccer ball idly. It was an adult regulation sized ball, which would be awkward to play with considering it was nearly as tall as his knees, but Kevin thought he could manage with a little advanced planning. Whatever he lacked in physical stature at the moment, he could surely make up for in strategy.

The appearance of the ball drew the attention of more than just the now seven various children under the age of ten, not counting Kevin and Javier. Alexis had invited a couple of her college friends to the party. The young adults were in the kind of mood where they wanted let out their own inner children and show off some of their skills to the smaller humans. 

Alexis herself wasn’t interested in playing, so she and a couple of her girl friends decided to cheer on the rest of them from the shade of a couple of beach umbrellas. The three college-aged boys and remaining girl organized the group into two teams. Kevin made sure he ended up on Javier’s team by latching onto his partner’s arm and refusing to let go, despite Javier’s irritation at Kevin’s “acting like a little girl.” That was rich of him, considering it was obvious to Kevin that the older boy wanted to be on his team, too. 

Somehow, Kevin had forgotten how much younger boys tried to impress older ones. Unfortunately, their immaturity often led them to believe that college kids would be impressed by bullies and acts of random violence. The little three year old girl had begged out of the game almost immediately after her own brother started picking on her for her size. That left Kevin as the smallest of the players. He took a deep breath and reminded himself that while he might be smaller than everyone else, he was smarter. 

The college students were pretty good about including the younger group in the game. The boys would spend a few seconds showing off some fancy footwork before graciously passing the ball to one of their open teammates. The young woman played like soccer was her game. She was more interested in actually moving the ball forward than showboating, but she, too, tried to give the little kids a chance to play. It didn’t surprise Kevin that Alexis had nice friends. 

Javier quickly forgot that he was adverse to socializing with children and took to the game like a fish to water. He was less concerned with gaining the praise of the college kids and more interested in asserting his position on the food chain of the shorter group. A couple of the eight-to-ten-year-olds tried to prove their superiority but were frustrated by Javier’s better understanding of the game and years of athleticism. His little body wasn’t quite as coordinated as an adult’s and any muscle memory he’d had was erased, but he still had the knowledge of how to fake and lead and pass with his instep instead of his toe. The only kid to give him any kind of competition was the seven year old girl who’d arrived in Umbro shorts and a faded t-shirt from a children’s soccer tournament. 

Kevin was glad to see Javier getting into the game and showing up the other players. Whenever the Irishman ended up with the ball, he did his best to pass it off to his partner. He was good at getting open, primarily because he knew better than to follow the ball around like a swarm of bees and to stick close to the imaginary sideline. He got a lot of practice quickly redirecting the ball once the opposing team realized that he was turning into a favorite receiver of the college kids. 

He’d just managed to gain control of the oversized ball off of a rocket of a pass from one of Alexis’ friends when two of the opposing kids crowded around him. Kevin could hear Javier calling for the ball a few yards ahead of him but he wasn’t exactly open. Kevin tried to dribble a few steps to get into a better position for the pass. He was about to kick it off when he suddenly found himself on the ground thanks to an overly aggressive hip check. Javier immediately moved to steal the ball back but he wasn’t fast enough to prevent the other team from scoring. One of the kids who’d double-teamed Kevin wasted no time taunting the Hispanic boy. Javier swallowed some certainly inappropriate retort and shot a dirty look at Kevin as the Irishman pushed himself up and brushed the dust off of his shorts. Kevin rolled his eyes. 

It didn’t take long for double or tripling-teaming Kevin to become the favorite strategy of the opposing team. Occasionally, one of the college students would urge the overly competitive younger crowd to back off a bit. It was obvious that they didn’t quite know what to do about the sub-par behavior of someone else’s kids. It didn’t bother Kevin at all that they gradually stopped trying to pass him the ball. His palms and knees were starting to burn from getting scraped so much. A small trickle of blood was smeared across his shin from the last time he’d landed hard on his knees. It was a sport though - one could expect to bleed a little. 

The more Javier embarrassed the bullies with his superior skills and smack-talking abilities, the more they took it out on Kevin. He was no stranger to being bullied and refused to let their immature actions upset him or scare him from the game. He was better than them and had no doubt arrested quite a few of their predecessors. Each time he found himself sprawled out in the dirt and grass, he vowed to be just a little quicker next time. That didn’t stop the bigger boys from plowing into him even after he’d successfully passed the ball off, but he was getting better at dodging those blows, as well. 

This last time, Kevin waited a second for the snickering brats to move away before he pushed himself off the ground. Before he could right himself, someone grabbed him under the arms and lifted him back onto his feet. “You okay, buddy?” 

“Yeah,” replied Kevin. He smiled faintly at the dark-haired youth in the Columbia tee. “If I’d known we were playing tackle soccer, I’d have asked for some pads.” 

“No kidding. Hang in there, sport, you’re doing a good job.” Kevin didn’t really need any affirmation from someone who was technically over a decade younger than him, but he appreciated the sentiment. The young man held out his closed hand for a fist bump. Kevin shyly obliged him. He was distracted then by raised voices. 

“Listen, punk,” said Javier, poking his finger into the chest of the kid who’d just leveled Kevin again. “I’m giving you fair warning. The next time you take a cheap shot at my friend, I will end you.”

“You don’t scare me,” retorted the kid. He stood up as straight as he could to get the most out of the few inches he had on Javier. “Maybe if he didn’t suck so much at soccer, he wouldn’t be such a baby and could stay on his feet.”

“Hey, guys, it’s just a game,” insisted the college girl. “Be nice.”

The bully stuck his tongue out at Javier. Javier rolled his eyes. “I’m watching you, idiot.” Javier stalked away towards where the ball was currently laying. He ignored the kid’s rejoinder that Javier was the idiot, not him. 

Kevin momentarily debated sitting out of the rest of the game. Javier would not let anyone pick on his partner, but that didn’t mean the older boy wasn’t annoyed by having to protect Kevin’s well-being. The Irishman could almost hear the words that were probably running through Javier’s mind at the moment. _If you weren’t such a baby, those assholes wouldn’t pick on you…_ Thanks to Kevin’s innate ability to attract bullies, the game was losing its luster for Javier. It would be more fun for the older boy if he wasn’t preoccupied with trying to defend his smaller partner. 

Kevin was about to head for the sidelines when he heard his name called. He hadn’t been paying attention to the resumed game but had still managed to get open for a pass. His own competitiveness surged again and he couldn’t just let the ball get turned over to the other team. Javier’s prime suspect was also eying the loose ball. Kevin was a little bit closer but his shorter legs left him at a disadvantage to get to the ball first. Still, he was going to try. 

About three yards from the ball, his right foot caught on something and the ground rushed up to meet him. He skidded a couple feet on his stomach and had to curl up quickly to avoid the spray of dirt and grass clumps as the eight-year-old connected with the ball just inches from his face. 

That hit hurt. Kevin took a few shaky breaths in an effort to control the ache in his chest at having the wind partially knocked out of him. He managed to roll onto his back to stare at the puffy white clouds as he waited for the sting in his hands to abate. He kind of expected Javier to appear over him to check that he was okay, in spite of his annoyance, but Kevin was momentarily left alone as the eruption of violence to his left drew everyone’s attention. 

Javier caught the eight-year-old in a flying mid-rift tackle that sent both boys rolling across the grass in a cloud of dust. Javier came out on top. He straddled the flailing boy’s lower back. The college kids tried to break up the fight but Javier refused to be detached from his opponent. “I told you what would happen if you targeted him again,” shouted Javier over the kid’s screams. 

“Get off of me!”

“Shut up. How does it feel to have your face squished into the dirt?” Javier did just that, using his hold on the back of the kid’s shirt to push him into the ground. He had his knees locked around the boy’s waist, preventing him from bucking up and dislodging the six-year-old. 

“Javier, stop!” Alexis, unlike the others watching the fight with wide eyes, knew about Javier’s years of military training and the incredibility unfair advantage he had in the fight, despite his smaller stature. Unfortunately, Javier was too focused on his quarry to hear her. 

The eight-year-old started wailing when he realized he wouldn’t be able to overcome the enraged six-year-old. The combination of screaming and crying attracted the attention of the adults, who immediately abandoned their conversations to hurry over. Where Alexis had failed to dissuade Javier from continuing to taunt the sobbing kid, her father succeeding by bodily hauling the Hispanic detective into the air. 

“What the hell is going on here?” demanded the writer as he struggled to control Javier’s thrashing limbs. The miniature detective ignored the question. 

“Remember this the next time you go after someone half your size!” Javier struggled to escape Castle’s hold so he could finish the bully’s lesson. “Little punk-ass brat!”

“Stop it,” ordered Castle. He carried Javier away from the other boy, whose mother had arrived to soothe her son’s well-deserved tears. Kevin pushed himself into a seated position so he could see better. Beckett and Lanie hurried over to where Castle was sitting in Alexis’ vacated lawn chair and trying to position the squirming Javier in his lap. The two women crowded around the six-year-old, simultaneously checking to see if he was hale and demanding an explanation for the fight. 

Kevin flopped back down onto his back. Part of him just wanted to continue lying in the grass and staring up at the partly cloudy sky until his various scrapes and bruises stopped bothering him. 

A concerned face, framed by a fall of sleek red hair, entered his line of sight. “Hey, Kevin,” said Alexis in a soft voice. “Are you okay?”

“I think I need to wait a few more years before trying soccer again,” he replied.

She smiled softly. “Come on. You need a few band-aids.” She offered him a hand so she could pull him off the ground. She kept his little fingers folded securely in hers as they approached the group hovering around Javier and Castle.

xXx

It took nearly everything Castle had to keep his grip on the squirming six-year-old. When the cries of Javier’s adversary had gained the attention of the adults loitering near the pool, he’d never expected to find his boy trying to beat the living daylights out of one of his guests’ children. While he didn’t doubt that the boy must have done something to the Hispanic detective to set him off, Castle would have thought Javier knew better than to start a fight - a fight that the frustrated boy apparently didn’t think was over yet.

The writer finally managed to find a seat on an empty lawn chair near the sideline of the impromptu soccer field. He adjusted his hold so that Javier was securely immobilized against his chest. Castle could feel the little boy’s heart beating rapidly and his chest heaving raggedly as he continued to struggle against Castle and demand his freedom. 

“Javi, sweetie, calm down,” said Kate as she crouched in front of Castle’s seat and looked up at her partner. “What’s wrong?”

“Let me go!” 

“Stop it,” ordered Castle. He didn’t want to hurt the kid by squeezing too hard. He was surprised by the strength in the mini-detective’s short little arms and legs. He made a mental note to never make Esposito this angry when he was full size again. “Stop it.” He repeated the command in a low voice, speaking directly into Javier’s ear, until the boy finally gave up trying to escape. When he felt Javier relax slightly, the writer adjusted his hold to hopefully feel more protective than restraining. Castle could only imagine that Javier would react like this if he felt threatened. 

“You’re all right,” soothed Kate. She ran her hand gently up and down the side of his calf. “What happened?”

“That stupid shit deserved what he got. Someone needed to teach his sorry ass a lesson.”

“Hey,” said Castle in a warning tone. “If you don’t stop swearing, you’ll be in danger of losing more than just one tooth.” Javier sulked angrily. Castle couldn’t see the boy’s face but he imagined that his expression somewhat mirrored the petulant look Kate was directing back at Javier. “Whatever he did, the answer was not to start a fight,” lectured Castle. “Come on, Javier, you know better than this.”

“I didn’t start it! I’m only in trouble because that little bitch started crying and Kevin didn’t.”

Damn it. Castle immediately scanned the yard for the younger detective. One of Alexis’ friends, a decent young man who’d been hovering uncomfortably at the edges of their group, spoke up. “He’s right, Mr. Castle. The other kids were picking on the little guy. We tried to tell them to stop. He kept a stiff upper lip about it.”

Castle barely acknowledged the college student as he watched his daughter approach, holding the toddler’s hand. The blond was covered from head to toe in dust and grass stains. A large scrape under his left knee had bled enough that the thin trickle of blood was staining the top of his once white socks. Kevin was walking towards them easily enough and his expression looked more concerned for Javier’s state of being than his own. Castle hoped that meant the toddler’s injuries were all superficial. 

Kate moved away from her spot before Castle and Javier to scoop up her younger partner and hug him tightly, unmindful of the dirt that was being transferred to her off-white sundress. Kevin returned her hug and rested his head heavily on her shoulder. She carried him over to the lawn chair and set him in a shady patch of grass so she could inspect his skinned knee. Alexis volunteered to get the first aid kit from the kitchen. Lanie joined Kate in checking for hidden injuries under Kevin’s pale skin. 

Castle slowly unwrapped his arms from around Javier and turned the boy around so his weight rested on Castle’s knees while he face the writer. Castle kept a secure hold on the detective’s narrow hips to make sure he didn’t fall or jump down. “Are you feeling more in control of yourself now?”

“I never felt out of control,” muttered Javier. “I told those punks what would happen if they didn’t stop pushing Kevin around.”

“Javier, the little boy you wailed on is eight years old. You’re trying to make the case for being thirty-six. Tell me, is that how you would have reacted if you were still a New York City police officer?”

Javier sniffled. Castle mentally cursed his luck. Apparently this was going to be one of those times where the shrunken detective acted like his physical age instead of his mental age. “Him being eight didn’t stop him from purposefully tripping a four-year-old who didn’t even have the dumb ball.”

“His behavior is inexcusable, too.”

“What did you expect me to do?” demanded Javier. His dark eyes flashed dangerously as he glared up at Castle. “Let them keep pushing my partner to the ground just because he’s smaller than them?”

“Absolutely not. What I expect you to do in a situation like that is come find me. Javier, I was twenty yards away. You could have shouted for me and I would have heard you.” Castle lifted one hand to cup the back of the boy’s neck. He kneaded the tense muscles gently. 

Javier angrily wiped away a frustrated tear that was making a path through the sweat and dust on his cheek. “I’m not a baby. I can take care of myself and my partner.”

“I know you can,” replied the author. “But right now, you’re supposed to be acting like a six-year-old. Let me deal with the bullies. That’s part of my responsibility to you.”

“You’re not my father.” There was no spite in the words, just broken resignation. Castle filed the faint note of wistfulness away as his overactive imagination acting up again. 

“I know,” Castle said in a low voice. “However, you are my friend and because of the spell, you need my help. So, let me help you.”

“I’m sorry I started a fight in the middle of your Fourth of July party,” mumbled Javier. “Even if it was justified.” 

The writer couldn’t help but chuckle at the boy’s last bit of defiance. “I’m not mad at you,” promised Castle. He pulled Javier in for a massive bear hug. “I understand that you were trying to protect your partner. It’s just unfortunate that your foe couldn’t take his lesson like a man, huh?”

“Stupid baby,” muttered Javier into Castle’s shirt. The writer laughed again. 

“You know you’re going to get a time out, right? We need to keep up appearances.”

“Whatever. I don’t want to play with any more little kids.” 

“Of course not.”

“He okay?” Kate stood over them, watching Javier worriedly. 

“Yeah,” answered Castle. “How’s Kevin?”

“He’ll live. I’m of half a mind to go give that boy’s mother some ‘parenting advice’.” Ugh, not Kate, too. Castle could only handle one vengeful NYPD detective at a time. 

“Let me deal with it,” requested Castle. He imagined that he might have a little more tact than Kate when she was in her mama bear mode. He lifted Javier to the ground so he could stand up. “Javier needs a little time out so he can summon some remorse for making an eight-year-old cry.”

“I’m not sorry,” stated the boy in question. 

Castle rolled his eyes when Kate nodded in agreement with her partner’s attitude. “He is sorry, because police officers who are thirty-six do not beat up other people’s children.” Castle swatted Javier’s shoulder. “You can either sit with the ladies and listen to them talk about girly things, or you can hang out with the manly men while they cook hotdogs and hamburgers.”

“I don’t see any manly men here, so I’m gonna go with Beckett.” 

“Brat,” complained Castle. “Kevvie, you coming with Mommy or Daddy?” He leaned to the side a bit so he could see the blond still seated in the grass a few yards behind Kate. 

“I’m not Kevvie,” pouted the toddler. “I hate that name.”

“So sorry,” said Castle insincerely. He leaned forward to briefly kiss his girlfriend. “I need to go check on the burgers. They’re probably burnt to a crisp.” He left the Manhattan group by the lawn chair while he headed back to the grill. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Martha speaking to Penny D’Angelo, the mother of Javier’s nemesis. Too bad he hadn’t had the chance to speak with the woman before his mother got a hold of her. She was looking quite embarrassed by the time Martha finished with her. Penny, in turn, took out her humiliation on her son. Castle was glad that he looked ashamed by his behavior. It didn’t surprise him when Penny and her sister left the party shortly thereafter, taking their unruly offspring with them. Now the only children who remained were the ten-year-old son and seven-year-old daughter of Ilana Temple. 

From his station before the wide barbeque, Castle could clearly see the group of padded chaise lounges that Kate and Lanie had commandeered before the fight had started. They returned to their seats where two other young women waited to pick up their conversation where they’d left off. Javier curled up against the back rest with his phone, probably playing Angry Birds when he wasn’t shooting dirty looks at the Temple boy. It appeared that there was more than one kid on Javier’s list. Every once in a while his lower lip would bulge out as he ran his tongue over his loose tooth. Kevin was content to cuddle against Kate’s side and listen attentively to whatever the full-size adults were discussing. 

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.


	33. Second Saturday Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Castle's Fourth of July party continues...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Thirty-Three

When the pile of steaming franks and hamburger patties next to his grill had piled high enough, Castle announced that dinner was served. The ravenous bottomless pits that professed to be college students were the first in line. The rest of the guests casually made their ways over to claim their traditional Independence Day fare. He ran out before everyone was served so he went back to grilling.

“Hey, Castle.” The writer smiled down at the blond toddler who’d snuck up on him while he was flipping his latest round of patties. A casual glance around the pool area let him know that Kate was keeping a steady eye on her youngest partner while pretending to be actively participating in the conversation around her. 

“What’s up, short stuff?”

Kevin’s little nose scrunched up in distaste of the moniker. Apparently it wasn’t as bad as Kevvie, since he didn’t outwardly protest. “Beckett told me to tell you to please hurry up because people are starving over there.” He said it with a completely straight face and huge doe-eyes. “Also, can Javi stop being on time out because I think he is not long from actually figuring out how to send real death glares.”

Castle laughed loudly. “You can tell Beckett that perfection cannot be rushed and tell Javier that if he causes someone to spontaneously combust, he’ll have to clean up the mess.”

“Ookay, but Beckett does not like to wait.”

“Too bad.” Castle watched the blond make his way back to the lead detective’s side. Kate held up her hands in a “what gives?” gesture when he returned empty handed. She pointed towards Castle and prodded her partner to start moving again. Kevin pouted as he trudged back over to Castle. His path led him around a group of socialites that included Ilana Temple and her two bored looking children. The boy scowled at Kevin as the younger detective passed him. Castle could see why Javier had felt the need to start his fight, despite it being the wrong way to handle the situation. 

“What now?” asked Castle when the boy reached him. 

“Beckett is too lazy to do her own dirty work,” complained Kevin. “She wants you to come sit with us but you better come bearing food. I’m not allowed to come back until you do what she says.”

Castle made eye contact with his girlfriend. She made a kissy face at him before patting her flat belly. Castle shook his head. “What do you want to eat, kiddo?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Kevin frowned in consternation. “I don’t want anything.”

“You have to eat something. Look, I have yummy franks, which are grilled just right. See how straight the lines are? You can’t get that kind of presentation from a professional. But if that’s not your speed, I also have nice plump hamburger patties with your choice of American, Cheddar, or no cheese. Smell the aroma of perfectly cooked ground beef.”

If anything, the kid looked a little green. “I like watermelon.”

Castle made a show of pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing exasperatedly. “You can’t eat only watermelon.”

“Yes-huh.”

“No-uh,” retorted Castle in a voice intended to mock the toddler’s high-pitched tenor. “Whatever, I’ll surprise you with something. In the meantime, can you take this back to your lazy boss and her friends?” Castle quickly made up three cheeseburgers and two hot dogs which he divided between two Styrofoam plates. Kevin dutifully took the two plates. “Can you carry that?”

“Yes, Castle, I’ve got it.”

“Okay, Mr. Attitude.” Kevin gave Castle a bored look before turning to carry the food back to Kate’s group. His look of concentration as he carefully balanced the food made Castle long for his video camera. He watched the toddler slowly retrace his steps, barely looking up from his precious cargo. 

Kevin reached the narrowest part of his trek where he had to maneuver between the cheerfully chattering group of socialites and the edge of the currently unoccupied pool. Kate had looked away briefly to pinch Javier since he was still silently fighting with the Temple boy by way of more and more hateful glares. She finished chiding her partner just in time to watch the ten-year-old get in his last cheap shot at Javier. As Kevin tried to skirt around the boy’s mother and sister, he threw his hands out and shoved the four-year-old hard towards the edge of the pool. 

Castle silently thanked whatever deity who was listening that his little boy knew how to swim. Kevin had already resurfaced and was treading water while spitting out the chlorinated liquid that had gotten in his mouth by the time Castle was leaning over the edge to fish him out. He sat the soaking wet boy on the edge of the pool. Kevin coughed a few times to get the little bit of water out of his airway. Once he could breathe easily again, he brushed his dripping bangs out of his face so he could see the writer. “I dropped the food.”

“I don’t care about the food,” snapped the writer. “Sorry, sorry. I’m not mad at you.” Castle took over trying to push the thin strands of blond hair that were plastered to the toddler’s head away from his face. One of his fluffy pool towels appeared over his shoulder, compliments of his mother. Castle wrapped Kevin in the towel and did his best to soak up as much of the quickly cooling water as he could. He stopped pressing a corner of the damp fabric over the boy’s hair when Kevin said his name.

“Castle?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think I want to come to your party anymore.”

“Gods…” Castle wrapped him up snugly and stood in one fluid motion with the toddler cradled against his chest. He finally registered what was going on with the rest of his guests. Most of the shocked party-goers were watching the incident speechlessly. Not speechless was his girlfriend, who was reading the riot act to the mortified Ilana Temple. Kate had one hand firmly twisted in the back of Javier’s t-shirt to prevent him from introducing a second dead body to Castle’s poor, abused pool. Lanie was trying to talk down her ex-boyfriend while helping Kate pull him back from the wide-eyed ten-year-old. “Kate!”

The detective finished her sentence before breaking off her tirade and looking expectantly at Castle. He stood his ground, refusing to be intimidated by her very scary visage. He was glad that she was not actually mad at him. Castle pointed at his dripping bundle. Kate understood that he wanted her to deal with her partner, not cause his guests to wet themselves. She marched over to him, dragging the enraged six-year-old along behind her. 

“Javier,” said Castle with as much authority as he could muster. The detective glowered at him. “What did we _just_ talk about?” 

“You saw what he did!”

“Yes, I did, and I’m going to deal with it. Go upstairs with Kate.” Javier continued to do his impression of a nuclear reactor about to blow but he didn’t argue with the writer. Castle transferred Kevin to the senior detective. “Take him upstairs and make sure he wasn’t hurt when he fell. Draw him a bath and find him some warm clothes. In fact, they could both use a good scrub. I’ll come check on you guys in a few minutes.” Kate nodded at his instructions, probably still too furious to verbally respond. She shifted her hold on Kevin and led the way into the cool interior of the house. 

“Mr. Castle, I’m so, so sorry,” said Ilana Temple as soon as he turned back to his guests. “I don’t know what got into Tony.”

“It’s okay,” said Castle. “Calm down. I know how boys can be.” He felt like he could spit fire, himself, but he squashed down his temper. 

“It’s not okay. Is the little boy all right?”

“He’ll be fine. He’s actually a very proficient swimmer.”

“I’m so glad to hear that. I’m so embarrassed.” Her face was a rather unappealing shade of red. “I definitely didn’t raise my son to pick on other children.”

“I’m sure you didn’t.” If you even raised him at all, or does your nanny take care of all that? “It seems there was some leftover tension from the soccer game.”

“Again, I’m so sorry. We’re going to take our leave now.”

“I’m sorry to see you go.” Please, leave more quickly.

Ilana waved away his insincere parting. “Thank you for inviting us in the first place.” She turned and hurried away, one hand firmly grasping her son’s. The little girl followed a few steps behind them, looking almost disappointed that they had to leave. She stopped in front of Castle. 

“Mr. Castle?”

“Yes?”

“Can you tell Javi that I’m sorry my brother is a meanie and that I liked playing soccer with him? He’s pretty good at it.” Castle felt a small bit of his anger melt away. He gave the girl a genuine smile. 

“I will.” She returned his smile and Castle noticed that she was missing a tooth of her own. 

“Caroline!” 

“Oops, got to go. Tell Javi I want to play with him again soon.” She turned and darted towards her impatient mother and sulking brother. Castle shook his head and prepared to deal with the onslaught of socialites who wanted to make sure that the author knew they did not approve of the way the bigger children had treated Castle’s kids. Such was life in the upper echelon.

xXx

Kate had her partners cleaned and changed into comfortable long-sleeve t-shirts and sweatpants by the time Castle entered Javier’s room to find the trio curled up together on his wide bed. The lead detective was still in her soiled white dress, which now sported some wet patches around her knees. Her thong sandals were discarded at the foot of the bed.

Kevin was curled up on her left with his head pillowed on her shoulder. Castle could tell he was following along with Kate as she read aloud from the previously contentious Patterson novel by the way his blue eyes steadily shifted from left to right and back. Javier was to her right, reclining against the same pile of pillows as the senior detective with his shoulder pressed firmly against her bare one. His eyes were closed as he simply listened to Kate’s low, soothing, monotone voice as she read at an even pace. Castle almost thought the older boy was asleep, but his dark brown eyes popped open when Kate’s voice cut off at Castle’s entrance. 

“Hey, guys.” He sat on the edge of the bed and patted Kevin’s arm. 

“Hey, Castle.” Kate smiled wanly at him. “How’d it go downstairs?”

“Fairly well. The Temples beat a hasty retreat but everyone else stuck around to offer their condolences. Javier has a number of allies in his quest for justice.” Javier yawned widely while waving his hand dismissively at Castle. Castle reached over to grasp the fluttering digits and tugged until Javier looked at him. “That doesn’t give you permission to start a fight every time someone looks sideways at your partner.” 

“Yeah, you made your point.” Castle gave him one last hard look before releasing his hand. Javier tucked it up against his chest and shifted to find a new comfortable position next to Kate. “Is Lanie still downstairs?”

“Yes. She’s hoping you’ll come downstairs to watch the fireworks with her.”

“Again?” asked Kevin sleepily.

“Yes, again. She also told me that she hopes you will eat something for dinner besides watermelon.” 

Kevin twisted around until he could see the author over his shoulder. “No, she didn’t.”

“She very much did. You can ask her yourself when we get downstairs.” Kevin looked completely unconvinced but he nevertheless shifted to allow Kate to sit up. Castle plucked the toddler off the bed and settled the Irishman on his hip. He offered his free hand to his girlfriend. 

“I want to change,” said Kate. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Can I come with you?” asked Javier. 

“Come with me, buddy,” said Castle. “Besides, you only need to see Kate in her unmentionables once.”

“Castle, really.” Kate smacked his arm. He liked the way her cheeks pinked slightly. “Javi, go with Castle so he doesn’t get jealous.”

“You two are gross, F.Y.I.” Javier gave them each a dirty look. Castle reached down for his hand. The quartet walked down the hall together and parted ways at the top of the stairs. Kate continued on to the master suite while Castle started down the stairs. 

In his backyard, most of the remaining guests had claimed seats around the gleaming pool (someone had skimmed out the ruined dinners to return it to its pristine condition). Castle paused briefly when he noticed his daughter sitting awfully close to one of the college boys who’d made the trip up for the party. He bit his tongue and kept walking towards Lanie and Martha. 

“There are my handsome boys,” cooed Lanie when she saw them walk up. Javier broke away from Castle to crawl up onto to the lounge with the medical examiner. She caught him in a sideways hug and kissed his cheek wetly. 

“Why, Miss Parish, I didn’t know you felt that way,” joked Castle. 

“I wasn’t talking about you,” she rejoined. “Gimme.” She held out her hands for the toddler. Castle reluctantly passed the blond over. Lanie treated the Irishman to a similar hug and kiss. “Where’s Kate?”

“Changing.” Castle dropped down in a double-wide lounge chair and let out a low groan. “I don’t think I’ve ever had such an exciting Fourth of July.”

“The best is yet to come,” said Lanie. 

“Lanie, did you really tell Castle that you want me to eat more than watermelon for dinner?” asked Kevin. Lanie glanced over at the writer, looking for an explanation for the strange question. Castle nodded emphatically at her. Unfortunately, Kevin also noticed the writer’s head bobbing. “See, Castle, I told you so.”

“You can’t blame me for trying. Speaking of food, you guys must be starving. What can I get you?”

“Sit down, Richard,” said Martha. “I’ll put something together. You need to just relax for a few minutes.” Castle looked up at his mother in surprise.

“Thanks.” He greatly appreciated the offer. His mother patted his knee fondly before standing to head into the house. Castle leaned back to watch the last bit of colored sky be overtaken by the night. To his right, Lanie spoke to the detectives in low tones. Occasionally she’d run her delicate fingers through Kevin’s damp hair, now from bathwater instead of pool water. The hum of her voice was soothing. 

When Martha returned, she wasn’t alone. Kate accompanied her, now dressed in similarly comfortable clothes to her boys. They distributed the plates of hamburgers, sausage, potato salad, and various fruits. Castle smiled faintly when he noticed that the kids each received a serving of his famous (even when reheated) franks and a slice of watermelon, all cut into bite size pieces. Javier might have eyed the presentation of his dinner skeptically at first, but he soon realized the benefit of the bits when he didn’t have to try to bite into anything with his loose tooth. 

The first firework exploded above the Southampton Yacht Club. They were a little bit further from the show than they were two nights ago, but Castle couldn’t deny his patio lounge chair was a bit more comfortable than the aft cockpit of his cruiser. Kate leaned against his side in a half hug with one arm wrapped around his back. She picked at the plate of grapes balanced precariously in his lap with her free hand. The writer wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He twisted a soft lock of her hair idly around his fingers as she quickly glanced at her silent phone. 

The college kids started up a chorus of “ooh, ahh, wows” and chattered quietly amongst themselves between the bursts of sound and light. Castle kept up a pattern of surreptitious glances in his daughter’s direction until Kate caught on to him and told him to stop. She smirked and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “She’s an adult now.”

“She’ll always be my little girl. Even when she’s ninety years old.”

“Like father, like daughter,” teased Martha. “Richard is in his forties and still lives with his mother.”

“You live with me,” corrected Castle. 

“Technicalities. Katherine does have a point, though. It’s time for Alexis to spread her wings and explore the world.”

“Can’t she just explore New York City for a bit longer?”

“You’ll get used to it,” promised Kate. “My dad did.”

“Besides, you’ve got two new darlings to dote on,” said Martha. “And they adore you nearly as much as Alexis does.”

Castle looked over to where Javier and Kevin were watching the fireworks show. The colorful lights reflected off of their skyward faces. Each time one of the long fizzlers or sonic booms echoed over the bay, the corner of Kevin’s mouth would turn up slightly. Javier had one finger in his mouth, absently wiggling at his tooth as he kept a diligent watch on the Independence Day display. 

Castle tapped Lanie’s foot with his own. “Poke him for me,” requested Castle when he got her attention. Lanie dutifully directed her ex-boyfriend’s attention to the writer. “It’s going to fall out sooner if you don’t leave it alone, buddy.” He grinned at Javier’s worried expression. The six-year-old went back to staring at the sky, but now his hands remained clasped together in his lap. 

The show neared its finale with a series of complicated fireworks designed to look like different objects. Some of the sillier ones included a cupcake, a hotdog in its bun, and a Christmas tree. Javier grinned at the flag-shaped one and turned to point it out to Kevin as if the toddler hadn’t already been watching. A series of red, white, and blue bursts lit up the sky behind the flag. The show ended with a series of gold stars in various sizes.

“I liked this show,” Kevin informed the group. His earlier aversion to sticking around for the end of Castle’s party seemed completely forgotten. “I’ve always wondered how they make them explode in certain shapes.”

“The Fourth of July is a good holiday,” said Javier. His finger was in his mouth again. Castle suspected that the tooth fairy would be visiting the next night, based on the rate at which Javier was worrying the incisor. He ignored the voice in the back of his mind telling him that the younger man probably wouldn’t want to partake in such a childish tradition. Castle loved the tooth fairy. Surely he could convince Javier to let him have his fun. 

“Even when it’s on the sixth of July?” teased Kate. 

“Yes.” Javier turned his attention to the contraband fireworks lighting up the sky in honor of the recently ended official show. “Castle, do you have any of those?”

“Are you suggesting that I would do something so illegal?”

Both little boys looked at him skeptically. “Yes,” said Kevin. “Do you?”

“You’re bad cops.” Castle made a face at his friends. 

“Stop teasing them,” said Kate with a laugh. She kissed Castle’s cheek. 

“Fine, fine,” relented the writer. He reluctantly disentangled himself from Kate and pushed himself to his feet. When he glanced over at the college kids, Alexis was no longer being overly-friendly with her classmate. Instead, she was walking towards them, no doubt to ask about the fireworks as well. It was part of their tradition, after all. 

Father and daughter headed to the garage to locate the boxes of small fireworks. They returned to find that most of the guests were ready to take their leave. That suited Castle just fine. He usually liked large parties but he found himself desiring the intimacy of a smaller group that night. In the end, only the college aged kids stuck around to watch the encore show. 

Kate protectively kept her small partners out of the thick of the action, but they all moved down to the beach so Castle could fire the explosives over the dark water. As the writer knelt down to set up the first launch, he felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. He shivered involuntarily and looked out into the pitch black abyss of the sky and sea. With a shake of his head, he pushed down the strange chill and focused on his task. By the time he’d launched the third firework and was laughing at the antics of Alexis and her friends, he forgot about his momentary lapse.

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading. 
> 
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art: http://lsmwalls.tumblr.com/image/58939397473


	34. Second Sunday Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein things go very badly...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Thirty-Four

Castle woke with Kate the next morning, though he remained in his heavenly soft bed while she readied herself to drive back to Manhattan. He wished that she would stay with him for the rest of the long weekend but he understood that her desire to know what was going on with the witches would not afford her any relaxation if she didn’t go back. He was curious enough himself, but he didn’t suffer from the same relentless drive that his girlfriend did. Besides, he was toying with heading into the city himself, anyway. Before she’d left the night before, Gina had informed him that the general manager of the Yankees had extended an invitation for the writer to come to a game. Castle knew that the Yankees were up by two games in a series against the Orioles. It could be fun to take the boys out to the Bronx. In the middle of the crowded stadium, he doubted anyone would bother them. 

“Did my phone ring while I was in the shower?” asked Kate. She barely looked at Castle before stationing herself in front of the mirror above his dresser to insert the last bobby-pin into her up-do. She was all business today. 

“No, it didn’t.” 

“Are the boys awake yet?”

Castle glanced at the baby monitor standing inconspicuously on his nightstand. So far, the two shrunken detectives were still unaware of the one he’d strategically hidden in Javier’s room. “No. It’s barely seven. They were up late last night.”

“You’re right.” Kate smoothed down the front of her slacks and gave the mirror one last appraising look before spinning around to snatch up her purse from a corner chair. “No coffee this morning?”

“No. It’s barely seven. I was up late last night.”

Kate managed to smile a bit at his joke. She bent over to grab the strap of her overnight bag, giving Castle a very nice view of her shapely behind. “Are you going to walk me downstairs?”

“I suppose I can do that,” said Castle. He slid out of the bed and located his house shoes. Together he and Kate headed downstairs. Lanie wasn’t quite ready yet, so the two lovers migrated to the kitchen where Castle dutifully started a pot of coffee. Kate would have to get her latte fix from someone a bit more with it that morning. “Are you planning to come back tonight?”

“I shouldn’t,” said Kate. “My meeting tomorrow with IA is first thing and I seem to struggle getting out of here at a reasonable hour in the mornings.”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to text you if the boys do anything cute today.”

“I’m sure they will.” Kate’s cheeks dimpled slightly. “It’s not fair, you know, that you get to spend so much more time with them.”

“If you had a job you could do from home, you could spend time with the kiddos as well.” Castle poured his girlfriend’s serving of coffee into a travel mug. He planned to head back to bed after this, so he declined to make his own cup. 

Lanie joined them a minute later. She yawned widely and gratefully accepted a second travel mug. She took a sip of the black brew and her eyes widened. “This is really good.”

“Only the best for my favorite crime-solving ladies.”

“It’s much too early for your attempts at flattery,” stated Lanie. She took another sip of her drink. 

“You ready to go?” asked Kate. 

“When you are. Bye, Castle.”

“Good-bye, Dr. Parish.” Castle followed the women to the front door. He chivalrously carried the two small suitcases and loaded them into the back of the Charger. Kate took her time slowly casing the front yard, looking for any indication that witchy mischief was afoot. After finding everything in order, she pulled open the driver’s side door. 

“I’ll have my phone with me all day,” she informed Castle. That wasn’t news - Kate always had her phone. He wished, for her sake, that she could calm down a little. Her unease was making his worse, too. 

“Me too,” he promised. He backed away from the police car and waved at Lanie as she gave him one last backward glance. The two doors slammed shut concurrently. Castle waited in the drive until the dark blue muscle car had turned out of his long driveway. Once the women were gone, he headed back into his home. 

In the entry vestibule, the click of the door lock as it engaged seemed to echo through the quiet space. He suddenly felt very alone. The chaos from the day before was replaced with an eerie silence that made his nerves tingle. Only he, the boys, and Martha remained in the large home. Alexis had gone back to Columbia the night before with her friends, claiming to have homework to complete before her summer classes started up again the next day. 

At a slightly accelerated pace, Castle ascended the stairs and crossed the bridge to the hall that would lead to Javier’s room. The door was cracked open a few inches, just like he’d left it the night before. He quietly slipped inside. He couldn’t help peeking at the large bay window before moving to the side of the bed. As was their wont, the cursed detectives were lying close to each other. Javier slept on his back while Kevin was curled up on his side, facing away from the older boy. He simultaneously hugged his pillow and rested his head upon it.

There was more room on Kevin’s side of the bed, so the writer stretched out next to the blond. He had no pillow and had to make do with cupping his hands behind his head. Castle stared at the white ceiling while he listened to the soft sounds of his boys in slumber. It didn’t take too long for him to find sleep again, himself. 

His phone woke him up around eight when Kate texted him to check on his well-being. He obligingly responded that he, and everyone else in a five mile radius of his house, was still alive. Her responding text clearly conveyed that she did not appreciate his belittlement of her fearfulness. She needed to take a chill pill. 

The series of small chimes drug the boys away from their sleep as well. Kevin yawned widely and blinked owlishly at the writer as he rolled onto his back. “What’s going on?”

“Your boss is making OCD seem like a minor personality quirk,” said Castle. 

“She’s not here?” Javier sat up and rubbed at his eyes. A second later, he was inspecting the state of his tooth. 

“No, she and Lanie left about an hour ago. Let me see your tooth, buddy.” Javier opened his mouth so Castle could see how much the incisor wiggled when Javier pressed on it with his tongue. “I think its fall is imminent.”

“It’s driving me crazy. I don’t remember loose teeth being this annoying.”

“Well, you lost them the first time a long time ago, old man.”

“Look who’s talking.” Javier pouted mildly. 

Castle brushed off the half-hearted jibe. “I wonder what kind of exchange the tooth fairy makes with little boys who are so mean to their dedicated caretakers.”

“The tooth fairy isn’t real, Castle.” Javier gave the writer a long-suffering look. 

“Bite your tongue!” Castle mustered his best scandalized expression. Kevin giggled at his antics. At least one of the detectives appreciated his efforts. Javier rolled his eyes. “Now you’ll surely only get a lump of coal under your pillow.”

The boy’s cheeks pinked slightly. “Don’t you dare.”

“Dare what?” Castle situated himself on his side with his head propped up on his right hand. Javier traded his seated position for a kneeling one, giving him a few more inches from which to look down on the author. 

“Put anything under my pillow if the tooth falls out.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” insisted Castle. He couldn’t look at Javier with a straight face so he concentrated on trying to smooth down the wild bed-head haloing Kevin’s head. Sparkling blue eyes looked back at him conspiratorially. “I can’t control what the tooth fairy does or doesn’t do.”

“ _Castle_.”

“ _Javier_.”

“I’m serious,” said the Hispanic detective. “I don’t want anything from you, especially for something so stupid.”

“Hey,” said Castle in a low voice. He reached over as far as he could without losing his balance and squashing the toddler. He clasped the older boy’s hand and squeezed gently, hoping to erase the detective’s pout. “You don’t owe me anything. I’ve really enjoyed this past week, certain events notwithstanding. I just want to have some fun. Why are you so averse to fun?”

“I’m not,” muttered Javier.

“And the tooth fairy isn’t stupid.” Castle released Javier’s hand so he could gently shove at the boy’s shoulder. Javier quickly scooted away from the threat of being knocked over. “Alexis used to love waiting for the tooth fairy to visit. She’d try so hard to stay awake to catch a glimpse of the little sprite, but alas, she was never able to.”

“’Cause the tooth fairy isn’t--” 

“Ah, ah, ah,” interrupted Castle. “She only visits those who believe.”

Javier gave Castle a demeaning look. “This is the most ridiculous conversation I’ve been forced to endure since you thought Bigfoot was stalking New York.”

“You have to admit, it seemed plausible at the time,” said Kevin. 

“Thank you!” Castle grinned at the blond. 

“No, Kevin, it didn’t. Bigfoot never has and never will exist.” Kevin pouted at his partner’s tone, which very much sounded like Javier thought he was talking to an idiot.

“You spend too much time with Kate,” said Castle. “Skeptics, the lot of you.” He stretched with a groan and flopped over onto his back. He inspected the white ceiling for a minute. Next to him, the two detectives argued about the existence of fairy-tale creatures. 

Without warning, Castle’s mood shifted for the worse. Despite his best efforts at squelching his nagging unease, it returned vengefully each time he let his guard down for just a second. Besides being fun, going to the baseball game would take them into the heart of the city that never sleeps. He needed the constant noise and activity. The quiet of his Hamptons home was going to drive him crazy. 

Determined to hide his unfounded fears from his friends, Castle asked, “You guys hungry?” Castle felt like he could eat and drink some coffee now. He stood up and lazily stretched once more. 

“I could eat,” said Javier. Kevin shrugged. 

“Do I need to get out the dietary supplements?” Castle poked the toddler’s belly. 

“No-oh!” Kevin pushed the older man’s hand away and curled up so as to protect his ticklish midsection. Castle half-heartedly continued his assault, not wanting to get the boys too riled up before he’d had a coffee or five. Kevin tried to escape by sliding under the covers as if to go back to sleep. 

“Hey, hey,” protested the writer. “We’re getting breakfast, remember?”

“Later?” suggested Kevin. 

“No, now.” Castle scooped up the toddler, feeling the pressing desire to be in physical contact with his boys. Kate had definitely rubbed a little of her crazy off on him. “At least keep me company so I don’t have to sit in the empty downstairs by myself.” 

“Fine, fine.” Javier climbed off the bed. He patiently went along with Castle’s request to hold his hand. He yawned widely as Castle led them out of the room. 

They were just about to start down the stairs when the doorbell rang. Castle’s heart skipped a beat at the unexpected sound. Fortunately, his hold on Kevin remained firm. “Either of you expecting company today?”

“Not me,” replied Kevin. Javier gave the writer a look that could only be interpreted as, “Obviously not.” 

Castle reached the front door and nervously peered through the peep hole. He let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and laughed condescendingly at himself. “It’s Police Chief Brady. He probably wants to discuss the necromancer case some more.” Castle let go of Javier to unlock and open the door. 

“Chief Brady, how are you?”

“I’ve been better, Mr. Castle.” The writer could see what he meant. The law officer looked like he’d swallowed a lemon or was about to do something completely unpleasant. Brady cast poorly concealed looks at each of the boys. 

“I’m sorry to hear that. How can I help you this morning?”

“Castle.” Kevin whispered his name directly into his ear. The writer absently patted his back to get him to wait while Brady responded to the question. Kevin tried again, to the same response. 

“I received a visit this morning from the feds down in Manhattan,” said Brady. His puckered expression turned even more sour. “These two little boys that your girlfriend claims to be trying to adopt? Their real guardians filed a missing persons report on them last week. Were you aware that she’d kidnapped them?”

“What?!” Castle nearly choked on his exclamation. 

“ _Castle_.” 

“Shhh.” The writer tightened his hold on the toddler. “There has to be some mistake. I’m one hundred percent sure that Kate did not kidnap these two.” He ignored Javier tugging on the back of his shirt. 

“They look just like the pictures,” argued Brady. “I doubt you knew about this beforehand, Mr. Castle. The fact still remains, they don’t belong to your girlfriend.”

“You’re wrong,” said Castle. He felt the onset of a panic attack forming in his chest. He took a step back towards the safety of his home. Brady mimicked his move. 

“I know you must be surprised, Mr. Castle. Maybe it is all a misunderstanding. Come with me down to the station and we’ll get this all sorted out.” Castle did not appreciate Brady speaking to him like he was a frightened animal. Who in the world would have contacted the FBI to file a fake kidnapping claim? His mind flashed briefly to Bianca. Was she making a play at the detectives since Kate continued to frustrate her attempts to get closer to the boys?

“No, this is all wrong,” insisted Castle. He looked sharply at Kevin when the toddler pinched his shoulder. “ _What_?” 

“The wards are gone.”

Castle’s head shot up and he immediately searched out the edge of property. He wouldn’t have been able to see the iridescent walls, anyway. He could, however, see the lone figure standing in the middle of his front lawn, clad entirely in black. The sickly-looking man’s unnaturally pale face was painfully familiar to the writer. 

Rayford Bellefonte. 

“No!” Castle leapt back into the house and grabbed the door to slam it shut in the police chief’s face. Brady read his intent and put his shoulder into the wood, preventing Castle from closing it. The writer needed more than one hand if he hoped to overpower the law officer. He nearly dropped Kevin in his haste to set the boy down. He immediately put all of his might into forcing the door closed. 

Javier threw his own slight weight against the door. Castle didn’t want the boy anywhere near the deranged witch or the spellbound police officer, but something gave at that moment and Castle was able to shut his front door. He hastily did the lock and the deadbolt. On the other side, Brady pounded on the obstruction and shouted for Castle to stand down and hand over the kids. 

Castle spared half a second to check on his friends. Kevin had his hands over his mouth as he stared at the quivering door with wetly shimmering blue eyes. Javier continued to lean against the door as if he didn’t trust the metal hardware to hold. Castle agreed with him. It might prevent Brady from breaking through but the writer had no doubt that the door wouldn’t give Bellefonte much trouble. 

The writer suddenly remembered the shoebox of police paraphernalia that Kate had brought from his loft a couple days ago. He’d never gotten around to moving it from the front hall closet. He lunged for the small storage area then, practically ripping the door off its hinges. He fumbled with the box as his limbs refused to coordinate fully in his haste. It dropped to the floor, spilling badges, wallets, and the two Glock 17s across the sleek wood floor. 

Castle snagged one of the semi-automatics and managed to undo the safety without too much delay. He drug Javier away from the door and pressed the firearm into his hands. “Please tell me you remember how to use this.”

“Of course,” said Javier, a bit breathlessly. 

Castle retrieved the second gun and undid the safety as well. The pounding on his door continued. Castle reevaluated his assumption that Brady couldn’t break down the door on his own. As he moved back towards the entryway, the writer spat out instructions. “Javier, take that and get Kevin out of here. Go out the back and run as fast as you can. You have to find a way to contact Kate.”

“We’re not leaving you here alone,” said Javier. Castle could see the way the Glock shook in his little hands. 

“Yes, you are. Get going!”

“No,” protested Kevin tearfully. 

“Go!” Castle grabbed the back of Javier’s shirt and practically threw the detective towards his partner. “Let Kate know what’s going on.”

A bright light beamed into the room from around the edges of the shuddering door. A moment later, a pulse of energy ripped through the room and the door erupted into a barrage of splinters and devastating projectiles. Castle didn’t even have time to raise the gun before the first chunk struck him.

xXx

Castle was out of his mind if he thought Javier would even consider leaving him to fight the bad guys by himself. Javier and Kevin were the trained police detectives, not the writer. Even more so, Javier was skilled in combat fighting. He gave no consideration to his smaller body as he stood his ground and refused to leave.

Kevin was trembling slightly next to him, but the Irishman was also adamant about staying. They didn’t abandon their friends. Javier took a deep breath and concentrated on getting a steadier grip on the gun that had once felt so natural against his palm. Now it took two hands just to hold it up and reach the trigger. 

“Go!” Javier struggled to regain his balance after Castle shoved him further into the house. “Let Kate know what’s going on.” What in the hell did Castle think Kate was going to do about their current situation? She was two hours away by now.

The door exploded then, sending hunks of wood spewing into the foyer. Castle’s larger body unintentionally shielded the smaller males, though they both threw up their arms to protect their eyes from the smaller pieces. Javier’s stomach sank painfully when the upper right corner of the door struck Castle upside his head. He crumpled instantly. The borrowed gun clattered to the floor. 

In the opening, Chief Brady looked stunned at what he assumed he’d just done. Beyond him, Javier could see Bellefonte stalking towards the house. Javier wanted to check to make sure Castle was okay but he was thwarted when his flight instinct kicked with the intensity of whiplash. Bellefonte had made the front stoop by the time Javier grabbed Kevin’s wrist and started sprinting towards the backdoor. 

Anything made of glass shattered in a series of bursts that would later remind Javier of dominos falling. The lamps, the face of the grandfather clock, the windows, the lites in the doors overlooking the pool; all burst inward, showering the retreating detectives with shards of glass. Javier grit his teeth and didn’t slow down, though he was sure slivers were being embedded in the bottom of his bare feet. Kevin was doing a commendable job keeping up with him, despite his shorter legs.

They were running through the middle of the living room when one of the armchairs suddenly slid across the floor, directly into Javier’s path. He lost his hold on Kevin while trying to dart around the obstruction. The smaller boy slipped around the far side of the chair and crouched down to wait for Javier to join him. His blond locks glittered as the morning light reflected off of tiny bits of glass. Javier wasted a few seconds to try to dust some of the debris out of his own hair before swiping his hand over his partner’s head. He also handed the firearm to the younger boy. 

“We have to check on Castle,” whispered Kevin hurriedly. He clutched the gun nervously, as if he wasn’t quite sure what Javier expected him to do with it. The Hispanic detective hoped they wouldn’t have to use it. 

“We’ll come back,” replied Javier. “Come on.”

“But--”

Kevin’s protest was interrupted by the removal of their cushioned shield. The chair skittered across the floor and crashed into the couch. Bellefonte towered over them, sneering manically. Javier didn’t have to try very hard to see the corpse-like visage of the man’s spirit beyond his physical face. With a startled squeak that he would vehemently deny later on, Javier ducked under Bellefonte’s hand and pushed Kevin to start moving again. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the set of fire pokers in their stand near the hearth. The fireplace itself was gas so the pokers were merely for decoration. However, they were still made of iron.

Javier grabbed the first poker he could reach and swung blindly at the witch he could practically feel breathing down the back of his neck. Bellefonte howled in a mixture of pain and rage as he stumbled backwards, clutching his knee. Javier tried to swing again, but Bellefonte caught the iron stick with one hand and refused to let go. Kevin tugged on Javier’s arm so that the older boy would abandon the weapon and retreat. While Bellefonte tried to overcome his agony, the detectives resumed running. 

They made the backdoor. It was easy enough to hurdle through the broken door now that the glass was gone. Javier faltered slightly on the rough tiles around the pool. He recovered quickly in spite of the jolt of pain that shot up from the sole of his right foot as the numerous cuts contacted the hard surface. 

“Javi?”

“Keep going.” Javier ignored the pain, refusing to let the superficial wounds slow them down. He returned Kevin’s worried look with an annoyed one of his own, hoping it would get the younger boy to forget about Javier’s momentary weakness and continue trying to escape. It was doubtful that Kevin would actually forget that his partner was hurting but at least he kept moving forward. 

The ex-special services soldier mentally charted his course to the garage, thinking that he and his partner could make their escape in the Mercedes. Between the two of them, they should be able to steer and work the pedals. They’d draw the bad guys away from the house, debilitate them, and then double back to make sure Castle was alright. Kevin was having a harder time keeping up with Javier’s longer stride now as his own sore feet slowed him down. Javier relaxed the pace as much as he dared. He took the gun back so Kevin wouldn’t have to split his concentration between the weapon and running. 

The two boys were halfway across the soft grass when a flash of black fabric in his peripheral vision alerted Javier to their pursuer’s return. Bellefonte stepped directly in front of them and snarled meanly. Javier and Kevin both bounced off his legs and landed on their backsides. Javier quickly raised his gun and aimed at their attacker. He could practically touch the man with the muzzle of the semi-automatic. There was no way he would miss. 

Bellefonte struck him across the face with a nasty backhand. The gun flew out of his hands and disappeared in the longish grass. Kevin cried out when the sickly witch grabbed his upper arm in a vise-like grip. Javier soon found himself similarly restrained. He tried to kick the witch in the shin. He connected solidly once, drawing out a hissed cuss. The hand on his upper arm started to glow and Javier could feel the heat through the sleeve of his shirt. A second later, bolts of pain rocketed into his shoulder and through his chest. The world quickly faded to black. 

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.  
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art: lsmwalls.tumblr.com/image/58939397473


	35. Second Sunday Morning - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the author remembers that this story started with a murder...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Thirty-Five

Beckett dropped her best friend off in front of the last-century high-rise that boasted period architecture and a working elevator. Lanie waved with one hand while she covered a yawn with the other. Beckett briefly envied her friend, who would likely squeeze in a nap that day. 

Beckett had too many people to track down to find any rest herself. The first person on her list was Randy Bellefonte. She wanted to make sure he was still recovering well from his brother’s assault on Friday and gauge how much she thought she could subtly push him to keep working on reversing the curse on her partners. Her steady disquiet from the day before continued that morning, causing her to look over her shoulder religiously and check her phone for missed messages even more frequently. She would feel much better when her partners were full-size again and not such easy targets. 

She also reminded herself to put in a call to Detective Demming to see how his hands were doing. Whatever she’d owed him before the visitation, she owed him double now. Beckett had to think of a really nice way to thank her ex-boyfriend for all of his help during this crazy case. 

Once she’d checked on the two males, she would have most of the day to attempt to pin down Bianca Castova. She still had a ton of unanswered questions and the white witch would be a one stop shop for most of them. Hopefully Bianca had spent the day before dealing with her council matters and therefore could sacrifice a few hours for the detective. Beckett wasn’t above bartering for time with her partners if it got the older woman to cooperate more. She figured that Bianca would have cast whatever nefarious spell she wanted on the boys during the visitation. Hopefully, though, that would be Beckett’s last resort to secure the witch’s cooperation. 

Finally, she planned to check in with the precinct. Gates was very interested in being kept in the loop now that she knew about the true reason the junior detectives were out on sick leave. While the captain had the potential of being very helpful to the lead homicide detective, Gates was also equally likely to want too much say. Beckett was feeling rather possessive of her partners these days and didn’t want to hear anyone else’s opinion on what to do with them, save for Castle’s. 

Prior to pulling away from the curb in front of Lanie’s apartment building, Beckett dialed Randy’s cell-phone number. It rang a few times before going to voicemail. With a frown, Beckett left him a brief message. She next tried Demming. 

“Hello?”

“Hi, Tom, it’s Kate.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yes. I should be asking you that.” Beckett turned the key in the ignition and checked over her shoulder to make sure the lane was clear before she pulled out into traffic. “How are your hands?”

“Still sore, but I think I’ll be mostly recovered soon. The burns weren’t that bad.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Beckett swallowed the apology sitting heavily on her tongue. She’d already apologized profusely to her co-worker on Friday for dragging him into the dangerous situation. Demming had shrugged and informed her that he was capable of making his own decisions and that she didn’t need to feel sorry for what had happened. Beckett knew that to continue to press the issue to assuage her own guilt would only make Demming irritated with her. 

“Your partners doing all right?”

“Yeah. They were already having nightmares about the necromancer that attacked them in the Hamptons. Bellefonte’s stunt on Friday just added some variety to the mix.” Beckett skillfully darted into the left lane to avoid a slow driver. She barely made it back into the right lane in time to make her turn towards the Rosewood Café. It was where she’d met Bianca the first time and she hoped the witch would be willing to meet her there again on short notice. If not, at least their coffee menu had looked promising. 

“I hope this doesn’t continue to bother them when they’re adults again.”

“Me too.” Beckett sighed softly. “I’m glad to hear you’re feeling better. I want to contact Bianca to get some information about what happened on Friday and how we can best go forward from here. I’ll check in with you again, later.”

“Sure,” agreed the robbery detective. “Be safe, Kate.”

“I will,” she promised. 

Just as she ended the call, Beckett spotted an open parking spot on the same block as the café. She hoped that her parking luck was a good omen for more fortune to come her way. Once in the parallel spot, Beckett scrolled through her contact list to find Bianca’s phone number. She was once again answered by the tinny request to leave a voicemail. 

“Of course,” said Beckett to the interior of her car. “Bianca has all the time in the world for annoying me, but as soon as I want something from her, she goes M.I.A.” Still, there was the draw of coffee. Beckett slid out of her car and locked it before striding up to the café’s charming entrance. 

She ordered a skinny vanilla latte and a bear claw to go. She toyed with the idea of texting Castle while she waited for her order to finish. Beckett didn’t really appreciate his dismissal of her worries concerning the safety of her loved ones. On the other hand, she’d be equally annoyed if he called her every hour, so she settled for running her thumb over the blocky letters of his name and then pocketing the phone without pressing the call button. 

Neither Bianca nor Randy returned her calls before her drink was ready. Beckett mentally moved her trip to the precinct to the top of her list instead of the bottom. The traffic was a bit more bearable on a Sunday morning, so she made good time to the 12th’s parking garage. 

The bullpen on homicide’s floor wasn’t completely deserted when Beckett stepped off of the elevator. A few officers were catching up on paperwork. One of the rookies noticed her and let her know that there was still no word on the whereabouts of Rayford Bellefonte. The light was on in Gates’ office, though the door was closed. Content to be mostly left alone, Beckett logged into her computer to continue trying to wade through her work backlog. Any progress she’d made on Friday had already been undone.

She’d only made it through a few emails by the time Gates emerged from her private office. The older woman smiled warmly when she saw her star detective seated in the bullpen. “Detective Beckett, I was hoping you would come in for a bit today.”

“I said that I would.”

Gates ignored the slightly indignant response. “How were the Hamptons?”

“Fine. The party seemed like a success.” Beckett wasn’t about to tell the captain about the way her junior partner had been bullied the entire afternoon. She suspected that Gates might overreact a bit and Kevin probably wouldn’t appreciate his troubles being explained to his boss. “I hear that there is still no information on the whereabouts of Rayford Bellefonte.” Hopefully the captain would be willing to talk about work instead of her personal life. 

“Nothing.” Gates pursed her lips. “I haven’t actually met the man myself and I consider myself lucky for it.”

Beckett forced her expression to remain neutral when Gates sat down in the chair at the side of her desk. The chair had been markedly empty over the past week without Castle to occupy it. Beckett ignored the pang of loneliness at the thought of working without the rest of her team. The detective just wanted to finish going through her emails and then head out again. She wasn’t interested in a drawn out conversation. 

“Had you heard that the man claiming to be Serafina Valduerez’s social worker has been indentified?” asked Gates. Okay, maybe Beckett could muster a little interest in this conversation. 

“I hadn’t.”

Gates tapped on one of the files waiting patiently at the edge of Beckett’s desk. “A few hours in holding convinced Mr. Anderson to be more forthcoming with what he knows. Wayne Jones, thirty-two. He has a record, but the worst offense on it is a disorderly conduct charge at a Giants game three years ago.”

“Can we link him to Greg Hanson?”

“As far as I know, none of his known associates are connected to your investigation,” replied Gates. “Take a look when you have the chance. You’re more familiar with the characters in this case so a name might jump out at you.”

“I will.” Beckett gave the older woman a genuine smile. “Have we been able to bring Jones in yet?”

“I sent a team of unis to his address yesterday. His superintendent doesn’t remember seeing him for nearly a week. He said it’s not uncommon for the man to just up and leave for long periods at a time.”

“Let me guess; no one knows where he is?”

“You’d be correct.” Gates leaned back slightly in the chair. “We tracked down some of his family members, but no one has heard from him recently, or could give any insight into why he was posing as a social worker. I put out an A.P.B. for him. It seems like accomplishing anything in this case is like trudging through quick sand.”

“Believe me, I know.” Beckett let out a short, sardonic laugh. “One of my contacts in the witchy community, Ms. Castova, probably has a lot of information that I’d like to have, but she’s been decidedly difficult to contact since Friday.”

“Keep trying. The majority of police work is perseverance and patience, which you know.”

“Yeah. That still doesn’t make it easy.” Beckett flipped open the folder with Jones’ file. She pulled out the picture paper-clipped to the first page. 

Beckett stared at the hard lines of the man’s face in the photograph that accompanied his report. Too many hours in the sun was already turning his skin leathery. His strong brow gave him the look of someone perpetually angry. She could see how he could intimidate the rather frail Mr. and Mrs. Anderson. 

“I’ll pay a visit to Mr. Hanson in jail tomorrow,” decided Beckett. “Jones may not admit to knowing Hanson, but I think I can get Hanson to admit knowing Jones.”

“That sounds like a good start,” agreed Gates. 

Beckett leaned back in her chair and sipped slowly at her coffee. “It’s possible that Jones is the one who killed Serafina. He fits the vague description of the man seen jumping over the fence in the back of the alley right after Serafina was shot.”

“What is his motive, though? If he was being paid by Hanson to find someone to act as Serafina’s guardian while she was small, why would he hurt her?”

“Maybe he wasn’t being paid enough?” It was flimsy and Beckett knew it. Still, the guy definitely looked like someone who wouldn’t think twice about turning on a supposed ally, no matter what his record showed. 

Beckett’s cell-phone came to life. She eagerly picked it up, expecting to see either Randy Bellefonte, Bianca Castova, or Richard Castle spelled out on the little screen. Instead, her caller ID displayed Martha Rodgers. With a cautious curiosity, Beckett hit the talk button. Gates watched her inquisitively. 

Immediately the distant sound of sirens filled Beckett’s ear. She could barely make out Martha’s hurried words as the actress’ composure abandoned her. “Martha, what’s wrong? I can’t understand you.”

“It’s Richard,” said the redhead. “He’s been badly hurt.”

“What happened?” demanded Beckett. She scooted forward to sit on the very edge of her chair and gripped the edge of her desk until her knuckles turned white. Gates practically mirrored her position. The older woman questioned what had upset Beckett by way of strategically raised eyebrows. 

“Someone attacked the house,” said Martha. “The entire downstairs is trashed. Richard was struck in the head. He was unconscious when I found him.” Beckett struggled to discern the rushed and mumbled words as Martha strove to fill her in as quickly as possible. 

“Where is he now?”

“The ambulance is here. They were able to revive him, thank god. He’s disoriented. They think he has a severe concussion. They’re going to take him to the ER for stitches. The gash on his forehead is awful.”

“I’m on my way. It will take me a couple hours to get there, but I’ll come as quickly as I can,” said Beckett. She unclenched her fingers and reached for her purse. “Do you know which hospital?”

“Not yet.” Martha fretted for a moment but managed to stave off an emotional break.

“It’s okay. I’ll call you when I get closer and you can let me know where you’re at.”

“Katherine…”

“I’m here.” 

“He keeps muttering a name. The same name over and over. It’s the only thing he can focus on.”

“What name?”

“Bell-something,” said Martha. “His speech is slurred. He’s hard to understand.”

“Is it Bellefonte?”

“Possibly. I don’t know.” 

Beckett felt bile rising in the back of her throat as dread filled her stomach. “Martha, where are the boys?” The actress choked on a sob. “Martha! Where are Javier and Kevin?”

“They’re gone.”

Beckett forgot to breathe for a minute. She was silent until Martha began to worry the call had been dropped. “I’m leaving right now,” said the detective in a monotone voice. “I’ll call you from the road.” Beckett barely waited for Martha’s acknowledgement before ending the call. Her whole body was shaking as she stood up. Gates rose to her feet as well. 

“What’s going on, detective?”

“Rayford Bellefonte is apparently in Southampton. He broke into Castle’s house. He took Kevin and Javier.” Beckett coughed slightly to clear the lump forming in her throat. “Castle’s hurt. The ambulance is going to take him to the hospital.”

Gates surprised Beckett by cursing. “You go ahead. I’ll see what I can do from here.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

“Of course. I won’t stand for anything to happen to those darling little boys.”

Beckett cringed internally. Hopefully Gates wouldn’t continue to associate the children she’d met on Friday with her detectives. Esposito, especially, would shit a brick if his captain continued to view him as a cute six-year-old. 

Nevertheless, she held her peace and made her way to the elevator. Gates returned to her office like a woman on a mission. Beckett wasn’t exactly sure what the captain thought she could do, but the detective didn’t have the time to worry about it. She knew instinctively that Castle had been trying to say the name Bellefonte. Somehow, Rayford Bellefonte had figured out which house belonged to the writer and had made his move against the detectives. Beckett loathed the day she’d been introduced to the madman. 

The detective burst through the double glass doors of the precinct’s main entrance. The noise of the street was muted by the fury bubbling in her mind. She was done waiting for the rest of the NYPD to locate the missing witch. She was going to hunt him down like the animal he was. 

Her keys jumped out of her trembling hand and clattered to the pavement at her feet. She dropped down to pick them up. Her fingers had just closed around the ring of keys when a pair of fancy leather high-button shoes entered her sight-line. Beckett looked up to see Bianca staring down at her with an indiscernible expression. The detective quickly rose to her full height again. 

“Katherine,” greeted the white witch. 

“Bianca,” replied Beckett. “I know I called you but there’s been an emergency and I can’t talk now.”

“I suspected as much. I will go with you to the Hamptons.”

“Why?” Beckett didn’t want to waste time to argue so she started hurrying towards the parking garage. Bianca easily kept pace with her. 

“My associate who put up the wards around your boyfriend’s house has been gravely wounded. I expect that your emergency has to do with the barriers being down.”

“The house was attacked. Castle is headed to the hospital with a severe concussion. His mother has no idea where the boys are.” Her quick pace was making Beckett sound a little breathless. 

“The older Bellefonte brother.” Bianca lips thinned into a straight line. “I told you not to shoot at him on Friday.”

“I don’t think my shooting at him brought this on. He already had my name on his list,” said Beckett incredulously. 

“You’ll need my help more than ever, now,” stated Bianca. “Rayford is using very dark and very dangerous magic.”

“I noticed.” Honestly, Beckett wanted the company. Besides, Bianca would be at her mercy for the next two hours (well, less than that with the way Beckett planned to drive). The detective would finally get some answers. 

As she was unlocking the car doors with her key fob, her phone chimed with a new text message. She glanced at the message briefly and nearly broke into hysterical laughter. The universe truly hated her, it seemed. 

The message was from Randy. He apologized for missing her earlier call but he had good news. He thought he had found a way to reverse the curse.

xXx

The first part of the drive was completed in tense silence as Beckett concentrated on weaving through traffic and Bianca scrolled through her contact list on her smart phone. Once they were beyond the densely populated areas, Beckett finally sat back in her seat and switched on the cruise control. Her fingers remained clenched tightly around the steering wheel, betraying her urgent need to be in the Hamptons. She had only let go of the wheel long enough to call Randy and let him know what had happened. He had seemed appropriately concerned, unlike the woman seated next to her.

“You have questions,” stated Bianca. She turned off the screen of her phone and slipped it into her purse. 

“Do you have any idea where Rayford Bellefonte is?”

“No. I have spoken with others on the Council and they do not know, either. However, should he be found, I would request that you let the Council deal with him.”

“Like the Council dealt with Nora?” Beckett meant for her delivery to be sarcastic. “Kennedy murdered her, regardless of whether you think she deserved her punishment. Only the state has the authority to dole out a death penalty.”

“Bellefonte was only getting started when she turned your friends into small children. She had much more devious plans in mind,” said Bianca. 

“You knew about these plans?”

“I am not unwise to the machinations of other witches, especially when they draw the attention of the Council. Bellefonte and Valduerez were abusing our craft.”

Beckett nearly jerked the car off the road. “Are you saying that Kennedy also murdered Valduerez?”

“Of course not. We were both out of town last Friday. I only returned to New York on the following Sunday.”

“That’s when you heard about what had been done to Kevin and Javier and decided to ‘arrange a meeting’ in Central Park?”

“Don’t act as if you weren’t amiable to the idea of getting out,” said Bianca stiffly. “The enticement wouldn’t have worked, otherwise.”

“So you admit to using magic to draw me and the boys out of the hotel?”

“I never denied it. Really, you act like everything I do is an attempt to undermine or bewitch you.” Bianca frowned. She gently patted her up-do to make sure all of her silvery-blonde strands of hair were still in place. 

“You cast spells on my boys without my permission.”

“Oh.” Bianca looked over at Beckett and smirked faintly. “My apologies. I thought you were treating your friends as if they were still adults and could make their own decisions about whom to trust.”

Beckett could feel the heat burning in her face. “I am.”

“Indeed.”

“Look, we’re talking about Rayford Bellefonte, not how I’ve been trying to protect my partners after his mother tried to ruin their lives.”

“Of course.”

The detective took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. When she felt like she could speak without screaming at the infuriating woman, she said, “When I find him, I’ll arrest him and he’ll face a jury of his peers. Vigilantism is illegal.” 

“You will not be able to arrest him. His abilities and crimes are beyond the capabilities of the police.”

“You underestimate me.” Beckett reached for her purse to find a piece of gum to help her avoid clenching her jaw. She was starting to get a headache. 

“It is you who underestimates, Katherine. You do not understand the magnitude of power required to raise one from the dead. That he should accomplish that when just a week ago he had no discernible ability can only mean he has fallen into the company of very dangerous witches.”

“Do you know who was with him?”

“I have not seen that man before.”

“One of the other witches referred to him as a necromancer.”

“Yes. Performing that kind of dark magic leaves a very specific taint on one’s spirit. It was easy to see when he followed Rayford into the room.”

“If Rayford is supposedly so powerful now, how were you able to push him back during the visitation?”

“I am not without some ability of my own,” said Bianca cagily. “The idea that good will always triumph over evil is not just a romantic notion used to justify a happy ending to most stories. Pure magic is inherently stronger than that tainted by evil.”

A sudden thought struck Beckett then. She turned eagerly towards the witch. “You have tracking spells on the boys, right? Can’t you use that to locate them?”

Bianca frowned and looked out the window for a moment before sighing softly. “Rayford was able to break those spells, probably not long after he took them. I do not know where they are.”

“Do you think they’re all right?” Beckett couldn’t bring herself to ask if Bianca thought her little boys were still alive. She refused to believe that they were lost to her until she saw their bodies herself. 

“Rayford is quite angry at you,” said Bianca. “You arrested his mother, which led to her death. Then, you tried to shoot him at the visitation.”

“Well, he survived the shooting and now he has his mother back.”

“Not really.” Bianca paused to gather her thoughts. “Nora’s body has been reanimated, but it is not truly her. Whatever humanity she possessed in life would have been consumed upon her death. The spirit that resides in her flesh now is not fettered by human emotions or a human soul. We should hope that wherever Rayford has taken your friends, it is not to the same place where he hides his mother.”

Beckett felt sick again. She considered pulling over to fight the nausea but her determination to reach Castle as soon as possible helped her soldier on. Bianca reached over to gently pat Beckett’s arm. “If Rayford meant to kill them, he could have done so without abducting them.”

“Unless he wanted to torture them, first.”

“There is that, I suppose.”

“Thanks,” said Beckett sardonically. Bianca’s calmness and ability to think rationally right now was making Beckett edgy. She felt completely justified in her pseudo-hysterical reaction to the situation. Bianca should be equally upset, for all she professed to care about the well-being of the cursed detectives. 

Thanks to Beckett’s almost reckless driving, they were nearing the edges of the little seaside area of Southampton. Bianca pulled out her phone again and flipped through her messages once more. “If you could, drop me off in town before you head to the hospital, please.” Beckett didn’t want to waste one second but she grudgingly agreed. 

“Do you need me to pick you up later?”

“I will find my way to the house,” said Bianca casually.

“Right, because you already know where it is,” Beckett grumbled. “One more question.”

“I doubt you only have one more.” Bianca raised an eyebrow at Beckett. 

“There’s only time for one. We can start up again tonight.”

Bianca looked less than thrilled about that proposition. Still, she gestured for Beckett to continue. 

“Did the Council have anything do to with Valduerez’s murder?”

“I do not concern myself with the judicial matters of the Council,” replied Bianca. “They do not consult me before doling out punishments.”

“It’s possible they did have something to do with it?”

“Valduerez certainly would have deserved her sentence were that the case.” 

Beckett cursed Bianca’s refusal to give her a straight answer. Usually her instincts concerning other people were very good. She rarely met someone whom she couldn’t get a good read on, especially after such a prolonged interaction. It frustrated her that she couldn’t decide if Bianca was trustworthy or not. 

They reached the center of town and Beckett pulled to the side of the road to let Bianca exit the vehicle. She barely paused long enough to half-heartedly return Bianca’s wave before peeling away from the curb and continuing on to the hospital.

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kevin and Javier who? :P
> 
> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.   
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art: lsmwalls.tumblr.com/image/58939397473


	36. Second Sunday Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Beckett has had enough of Brady...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Thirty-Six

By the time Beckett finished her race across the third floor of the patient care tower of the hospital to her boyfriend’s room, Castle was sitting up in bed and demanding that he be released. His mother was perched on the edge of the seat next to his bed, tightly squeezing his arm just above the elbow. Martha looked immensely relieved when Beckett strode into the room. The doctor and nurse hovering at the foot of the writer’s bed also relaxed slightly when Castle switched his attention to the detective. 

“Kate,” he said in a hoarse voice. “I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” She pushed past the medical team to stand on the opposite side of the bed from Martha. She clasped Castle’s hand where it was clenched at his hip. 

“The kids…”

“It’s not your fault,” Beckett insisted. She honestly didn’t feel the slightest bit upset at Castle for failing to protect her partners. The man had been knocked unconscious trying to defend them. He wasn’t even a police officer. Her affection also helped eliminate any sort of blame she might have tried to assign to the man for his shortcomings. 

“And you are?” asked the doctor. He was a trim, middle-aged man with flecks of gray at his temples. Even without his standard hospital garb, Beckett would have pegged him as a medical professional. 

“Kate Beckett, NYPD,” said the detective shortly. “What is Mr. Castle’s prognosis?”

“First of all, my name is Dr. Reynolds.” The man frowned at Beckett’s dismissal of standard introduction protocol. “Mr. Castle suffered from trauma to the head which resulted in a severe concussion,” said the doctor. “Fortunately, he will probably make a full recovery. His speech is clearer now and his pupils are dilating appropriately.”

“Damn right, I’m fine,” stated Castle. He tried to slide off the bed again. Beckett helped Martha and the nurse push him back. “Kate, we need to find the kids.”

“We will,” she said. Beckett swallowed with difficulty around the lump in her throat. They’d already lost two hours. Bellefonte could be anywhere by now.

“Mr. Castle, you need to remain here for a bit longer,” said Dr. Reynolds. “There is still a possibility that you could experience negative side effects from your concussion. It is highly inadvisable that you do anything but get plenty of bed rest right now.”

“There’s no time for that.” Castle scowled at the older man. “That bastard took my kids.”

“I know. I was informed that the Southampton police were already at your home when the ambulance arrived. They’re much better equipped to locate missing persons than you are in your condition.” The doctor’s posture radiated stubbornness. He wasn’t going to be talked down easily. Unfortunately for Castle, Beckett agreed with the doctor. 

“Like hell they are,” snapped Castle. Beckett could see that there was tension in her lover’s jaw that didn’t come from his surely pounding head. 

“It’s okay, Rick,” said Beckett in a low voice. “I’m here now. I’ll find them.”

“You need me,” said Castle beseechingly. 

“I do,” agreed Beckett. “I need you to be okay.” She sniffled. “Please, be okay.”

“I am.” The author switched quickly from confrontational to comforting. “Kate…”

Beckett wiped her hand across her face before looking seriously at Castle. She breathed deeply. “Do you remember what happened?”

“Yes.” His face was turning paler by the second and a thin sheen of sweat broke out over his brow. The nurse shot the doctor an expectant look. 

“You must not over-exert yourself, Mr. Castle,” said Dr. Reynolds. “Beth, grab the bowl.” The nurse grabbed the hard plastic container and pushed it under Castle’s chin. The writer swallowed rapidly a few times and managed to avoid becoming ill. Beckett handed him the cup of water from the bedside table after he’d pushed away the bowl. 

“Just relax, Rick,” encouraged Beckett. “I know it’s not easy, but try.”

Castle took a couple shallow breaths and leaned back against his pillows. He uttered a string of colorful words under his breath as he glared at the ceiling. Beckett squeezed his hand. 

“I’ll give you another dose of painkillers,” said the doctor. “If your headache and nausea recede soon, we’ll discuss your discharge again.” Castle nodded slowly in defeat. Beckett gently brushed her fingers over the gauze taped to his forehead where he’d been struck by whatever had knocked him unconscious. Dr. Reynolds gestured for the nurse to follow through on his promise, then took his leave. The nurse inserted the boost of pain medication into the IV. Once she had also departed, Castle looked earnestly at Beckett. 

“Kate, it was Bellefonte.”

“I know,” replied the detective. “Martha mentioned that you kept repeating his name at the house. What happened?”

Castle rubbed idly at his forehead while he waited for the painkillers to start working. “Somehow, Bellefonte hood-winked Chief Brady with some story about you having kidnapped the boys. Brady came over to insist that I turn the kids over to him and I guess Bellefonte followed him. The wards came down, which let the bastard witch onto the property. I tried to keep them out, but Bellefonte blew open the door. That’s the last thing I remember. I tried to get the boys to run, but they wouldn’t.”

“I’m not surprised.” Beckett gave Castle a watery smile and carded her fingers through his disheveled hair. She looked over at the man’s worried mother. “Are you all right, Martha?”

“Oh, don’t mind me,” said the actress dismissively. “The banging on the front door woke me up. I was in the process of dialing 9-1-1 when the explosion happened. In a moment of weakness, I succumbed to my fear and couldn’t move. By the time I made my way downstairs, there were only Richard and Chief Brady in the house.”

“Brady was still there?” asked Beckett. Her fear for Castle and her partners’ well-beings was quickly morphing into anger. 

“Yes, he was trying to revive Richard. At the time, I didn’t realize he was working with Bellefonte. I called 9-1-1, then.”

“Do you know where he is now?”

“I presume he’s still at the house.” Martha frowned as she added Castle’s version of the events to her own. “Do you think he’s tampering with evidence?”

“I don’t know, but I’m planning to go over there and find out.” Beckett unconsciously shifted her weight to feel the press of her firearm against her hip. “Will you be all right for a couple hours, Castle?”

“If I must. I think that shifty nurse put more than just painkillers in the IV.” He yawned and then cringed when the action caused his headache to pulse. 

“I don’t think sleep will hurt you right now,” said Beckett. “I’ll keep you updated. Do you need anything, Martha?”

“No, dear, don’t worry about me.” Martha reached over to squeeze Beckett’s hand briefly. Beckett gave her a grateful smile. The detective leaned over to kiss Castle fondly. Shortly thereafter, she found herself once more racing through the hospital as she made her way back to the Charger. 

At Castle’s second home, the front drive was still filled with the sum of Southampton PD’s police cruisers. Beckett parked in the grass, unmindful of any tire tracks she’d leave on the perfectly manicured lawn. One of the police officers moved to intercept her as she purposefully strode towards the yellow tape that delineated the crime scene. 

“Excuse me, ma’am…”

“Get out of my way,” snapped Beckett. She yanked her badge from her belt and practically smacked the officer in the face with it. “NYPD.” She didn’t technically have any jurisdiction in Southampton, but the somewhat heavyset officer backed down anyway. 

Chief Brady was standing on the front stoop, directing the CSI unit to different parts of the devastated first floor of the mansion. Beckett marched up to him without hesitation. “Brady,” she snapped venomously. 

He paled at the sight of her. “Detective Beckett.”

“What the hell happened here and how were you involved?”

Brady glanced about himself to see which of his officers were watching the exchange curiously. His answer was all of them. Beckett wasn’t being discrete at all. “I don’t know what you mean…”

“Don’t mess with me.” Beckett glowered at him. She felt marginally better when he shrank away from her nervously. “Castle remembers everything that happened up until getting smacked by the door. So, you better come clean right now and so help me, if you jerk me around, no one will ever find your body. Remember, I work homicide.”

“You… you can’t talk to me like t-that,” stuttered Brady. “I’m the c-chief of police here.”

“You royally screwed up, Brady. We both know that. So start talking.” Beckett rested her palm on her hip, just above where her holster clipped to her belt. 

“Okay, okay, but not here.” Beckett wanted to strangle the skinny man. She barely restrained herself as they moved to a more concealed location. In hindsight, Beckett was glad for the privacy, but that didn’t make her feel any less impatient. Precious seconds were passing as Brady searched for a way to downplay his role in this fiasco.

“Start talking, asshole.” Beckett crossed her arms over her chest and glared for all her worth at Brady. He frowned at her language but wisely refrained from commenting. 

“This man came to the station this morning claiming to be an FBI agent investigating the kidnapping of two small boys,” said Brady quickly. “He had all of the proper paperwork and even photographs. I recognized them immediately as the two that you claim to have adopted.”

“Did you check his ID number? Verify his claim? Call his superior?”

“N-no. I’m usually good about following protocol. I just… I don’t really remember what happened after that. It’s like a fog in my mind. I know that we came here and I went up to the door. Mr. Castle had the boys with him when he answered the door. We argued about the kidnapping and then Mr. Castle slammed the door shut. I was trying to break it down when suddenly it gave away. The next thing I know, I’m trying to wake up Mr. Castle and the FBI agent is gone.”

“He’s not a fucking agent,” snapped Beckett. “Stop calling him that.” She recalled the bogus story that Castle had used to confiscate the photographs of their July Fourth outing from the newspaper headquarters. “I have the boys because some very dangerous people have been trying to abduct them. They’re material witnesses to a series of crimes back in New York. Now, thanks to you, the bad guys have them.” The fabrication tasted funny on her tongue. Clearly, she was not gifted in story-telling like Castle. 

“I didn’t know,” insisted Brady. “I wanted to check his credentials. I just… didn’t.”

“Give me the fake name that the kidnapper used,” ordered Beckett. “I’ll have my people run his alias.”

“This is still a Southampton crime scene,” stated Brady. He stood up a little straighter. 

“Only because you aided and abetted a dangerous felon.” Beckett turned her back on him dismissively when her phone started to buzz in her pocket. She pulled it out. Her heart sank when she read the name on the caller ID. 

“Kate Beckett,” she answered in a strangled voice. 

“Kate, it’s Will. I just got the buzz on your kidnapping. When my director recognized your name, he passed the case along to me.”

“Did Captain Gates contact your department?”

“Yes. She explained that Richard Castle has younger relations in town that were previously targeted in an abduction attempt and now the perpetrators succeeded in taking the boys. You can probably fill me in with more detail, since you and the writer work together.”

“Um, yeah. That about sums it up.” Beckett clenched her teeth momentarily as she cursed her meddling captain. She also spared a few choice words for the multiple cover stories that she and Castle had invented to explain the presence of the little boys in their lives and the disappearance of her partners. They really needed to come up with one explanation and stick to it. She couldn’t even keep straight who had heard which lie. 

“Captain Gates mentioned you were on your way to Southampton. Are you there now?”

“Yes, I’m at Castle’s house. I’ll text you the address.”

“Great. I’ll get there as quickly as I can,” he promised. “We’ll solve this kidnapping, just like the rest of them.” Beckett wasn’t in the mood for his attempts to console her. She briefly (and insincerely) thanked him and ended the call. 

“Who was that?” asked Brady.

“Special Agent Will Sorensen, of the _real_ FBI.” Beckett shot the police chief one last dirty look before stomping into the house to see what she could find before the feds arrived to mess up her investigation. She should have known Gates would just cause her unnecessary headaches. 

There was little she could do or see. The crime scene unit had cordoned off most of the area. She gingerly picked her way through the glass shards littering the floor. She was thankful for her thick soled shoes. Beckett had to bite her tongue when she spotted the little white markers next to the empty shoe box and its spilled contents. There was no way she would be able to retrieve the wallets, nor the abandoned Glock. How was she going to explain Castle being in possession of her partner’s personal effects when they were supposedly back in New York on sick leave? Better yet, where were the badges that had also been in the box? 

She took a deep breath. She’d cross that bridge when she came to it. Beckett continued to carefully make her way beyond the foyer and into the living room where the trail of broken glass continued. She wanted to cry at the sight of the destruction. She momentarily flashed back to the state of Castle’s loft after Rayford Bellefonte’s break-in there. 

Beckett was drawn to the gaping hole in the back door where a clear glass lite had once existed. Castle had mentioned that he’d tried to get the boys to run for safety but that they wouldn’t listen to him. It was possible that they might have gone for help after Castle was knocked unconscious. If it were her, Beckett would have tried to make it to the garage where the Mercedes was stowed during the night. 

She carefully followed the invisible path around the back of the mansion towards the garage. She paused when a flash of color caught her attention. The skin-tone hue of the Band-Aid stuck out from the dark green of the grass. It matched the type of bandage used to cover little Kevin’s skinned knee. Beckett surmised that this was likely the place where Bellefonte had confronted her partners. There were a few blades of broken grass that she could see, but Beckett was no expert at reading signs of struggle in plant life. She was about to call for one of the CSI techs to come look at the area when her toe caught on something heavy hidden in the grass. 

Beckett pulled out one of her plastic crime scene gloves and surreptitiously picked up the second Glock by the handle. Her fingerprints were probably already on the weapon - she’d handled it previously - but it didn’t hurt to avoid adding any more. She checked that no one was watching as she slipped the gun into the back of her belt and made sure her jacket covered it completely. The detective scanned the area for anything else that would be next to impossible to explain to those not aware of the witchcraft aspect of her case. Seeing nothing, she finally called over one of the techs. 

Whatever path Rayford Bellefonte might have taken after snatching up her partners was invisible to Beckett. For all she knew, he had sprouted wings and flown away. The inexperienced cops of Southampton had probably obliterated any vehicle tracks in the gravel drive when they’d pulled up afterwards. There were no snags of cloth or hair along the perimeter of the house to mark Bellefonte’s passage. 

Beckett’s frustration welled in her chest. It was all she could do to not drop to her knees and scream up at the sky.

xXx

Javier’s ears strained to make out any sound in the seemingly abandoned shack where he’d awoken nearly thirty minutes ago. The only sound he could hear besides the occasional creaking of the structure when the wind gusted outside was Kevin’s shallow breathing as his partner likewise scanned the room for any clue to their location or that of Bellefonte.

Upon waking, Javier’s whole body had tingled slightly as the last of the magical attack that had rendered him unconscious faded from his system. He’d blinked a few times before realizing that there really was a kind of hazy quality to the static air, like it was often filled with smoke. Javier had only witnessed that phenomenon in the homes of heavy smokers, but the air and the ancient plaid furniture carried no scent of tobacco. 

Between the two detectives and the rest of the severely outdated and dusty living room was a mesh of closely spaced steel bars. Only six inches separated each of the thin, plastic-coated rods in either direction, reducing their view to a checkerboard of black square frames. Javier could fit his arm all of the way through the bars, but there was nothing worthwhile within his limited reach. The front of the cage - because that sounded slightly less insulting than large dog kennel - was modified to allow for the use of a padlock instead of the typical pin and spring latch. It was a combination lock. Javier thought he might be able to figure out the combination once his traitorous little body stopped protesting each time he moved too much. 

Beyond the roughly four foot by six foot by four foot tall steel mesh box was the rest of the living area. Each of the narrow windows was shrouded by a heavy curtain whose faded pattern clashed offensively with the fabric on the furniture. A thick layer of brown dust coated nearly every surface except for their prison and a single seat on the worn couch facing the cage. Javier very much hoped that the butt print had been made before that morning because the idea of someone watching him and Kevin before they awoke made chills travel down his spine. 

“I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore,” whispered Kevin. The little blond was leaning heavily against Javier’s side, despite the uncomfortably warm temperature of the room. Javier was more than willing to endure the flecks of sweat forming at his hairline for the small comfort of having his partner with him. “It’s too quiet.”

“Yeah,” replied Javier in an equally low voice. The corner of his mouth quirked up slightly at his partner’s attempted joke. The absence of the crashing waves against the sandy shore ruled out Southampton and the lack of traffic sounds and people shouting to each other negated the possibility of New York City. “How are you feeling?”

“My feet hurt,” said Kevin honestly. The statement made Javier think of his own abused soles. A flare of pain was his punishment for forgetting about the cuts caused by the broken glass. Javier tried to maneuver into a position where he could see the bottom of his bare foot, but his body was still too stiff to cooperate. Instead, he shifted around until he faced his partner and reached for Kevin’s left foot.

They were lucky in that there didn’t seem to be any actual shards of glass embedded in the skin. Javier took his time inspecting both feet as well as he could in the dim light. Once he was satisfied that Kevin suffered only from minor scratches, he leaned back to let his partner return the favor. Apparently Javier did have one small sliver in his right foot. The older boy easily recalled the trouble it had given him while trying to escape the mad witch. 

“I wonder if there’s a phone in this place,” said Kevin. Javier scanned the room again, too. No phone. Just a few old frames that were so dusty it was impossible to make out the photographs, some abandoned hardcover books, and a series of creepy porcelain figurines that reminded Javier of those Gemini dolls that Captain Gates was so fond of. 

“Even if there’s not, we’ll find one once we break out of here.” Javier finally felt like he could summon the coordination to try the combination lock at the far end of the large kennel. “You don’t happen to have a stethoscope with you, do you?”

“I’m sorry, I left it in my other set of pajamas,” replied Kevin with a straight face. Javier cracked a slight grin. This would be easier if they could keep their spirits up. 

“Too bad you’re not in your lucky pajamas. Maybe we wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.”

Kevin looked down at his rumpled gray t-shirt with a smiling cartoon dinosaur standing under some stars and the moon. The navy blue shorts were covered with matching stars. “I don’t know - I like the dinosaur more than the shamrocks.”

“You would, nerd.” Kevin stuck his tongue out at his partner. Javier shook his head and was silently glad that his sleepwear was splashed with images of the more manly X-Men. “Okay, be quiet for a minute. I’m going to try the lock.”

Together they moved to the opposite end of the cage, unwilling to be even a few feet apart. Javier reached through the bars and pushed the round lock up until he could see the dial. It would take a minute to get used to looking at the numbers upside down, but he thought he could still do it. He spun the dial counter-clockwise a few times to clear the tumbler before leaning up to place his ear as close to the mechanism as possible. He slowly turned the dial, listening intently for the sound of the first bit of the puzzle falling into place.

Javier had turned it nearly three hundred and sixty degrees before he was rewarded with a faint pop within the lock. He pulled back to see what number he’d stopped on. “Kev, remember twenty-eight.”

“Got it.”

The tip of Javier’s tongue poked out of his dry mouth as he very slowly turned the dial in the opposite direction, straining to hear the next click. What he heard instead was the whine of a car’s engine. He dropped the lock when he jerked in surprise. Both he and Kevin quickly turned towards the doorway at the far end of the room that possibly led to the exterior. 

Javier cursed. He had little faith that he’d be able to finish breaking the combination before the unknown driver entered the house, but he was going to try. He pushed the lock back into position and cleared the set again before quickly spinning the dial to twenty-eight. He leaned in close again, looking for the second number. It was to no avail. He couldn’t hear the delicate pop of the lock over the sound of his own heart pounding nervously. 

More than one set of footsteps traversed what was probably a wooden front porch. A key jingled in the distance and then a door creaked open. Javier released the lock and scooted backwards, pressing his smaller partner into the furthest corner of the cage. Kevin gripped his shirt tightly.

The first person through the doorway into the living room was Bellefonte. Javier couldn’t stop the low sound of hate from escaping him at the sight of the sickly pale man with his greasy black hair. “This way,” said the witch. His voice still sounded gravelly and misused but there was an odd hint of affection in it. “Saul will arrive shortly and then we’ll have dinner.”

Rayford ignored his two prisoners as he deposited a set of keys on the dirty surface of the secretary pushed under one of the covered windows. Two steps behind him was his companion. Kevin let out a small whimper and pressed his face against the back of Javier’s shoulder when he recognized the second person. Javier swallowed thickly, unable to look away from the train wreck visage of his least favorite person in the whole world. 

“Mama, make yourself comfortable,” said Rayford. He motioned towards the couch. 

Nora Bellefonte slowly and stiffly crossed the worn area rug until she was able to take a seat on the cushion sporting the butt print. Javier wished he had something to cover himself with. Her penetrating, dead stare was making him feel more exposed than if he’d been naked. 

Her stained dress was slightly big and the cut was too young for her. The plunging neckline might have looked good on a well-endowed young woman. On Nora, it only revealed her wrinkled dark skin and the upper right corner of the puckered stitches left over from Lanie’s autopsy. The old woman’s face was expressionless as she returned Javier’s horrified stare. The last time the detective had seen her, her eyes had been a warm brown color, a few shades darker than his own. Now the pupils had enveloped the irises, leaving nothing but black. 

“Can I get you anything, Mama?” Rayford moved to her side. “Oh, let me help you.” He tenderly adjusted the neck of the dress so that it covered the autopsy stitches. “Once we finish our business with Saul, I can tend to your injuries. It will be like those blood-thirsty detectives and their butcher friends never harmed you.” Rayford glanced towards the cage and sneered when he registered that his captives were awake. “Does their presence bother you, Mama?”

Well, Javier would certainly agree to leaving this place if it would make the witch happy. He dared to look away from Nora long enough to send Rayford a hateful glare. Nora didn’t respond directly to the question. Her thick, gray tongue did slide out of her puckered mouth to wet her pale lips. The same action that made Javier feel like a thousand tiny insects were crawling over his flesh caused Rayford to chuckle. “Yes, I know you’re hungry, Mama. Saul will be here soon and then we’ll eat.”

Rayford turned towards the detectives. He moved to the side of the cage and crouched down to be closer to eye level with the two boys. “Let us go,” demanded Javier. His voice, thankfully, didn’t shake or belay too much of his terror. “Beckett will never let you get away with this.”

Rayford’s face morphed into one of rage and the rotted skull of his spirit flashed before the detective’s eyes. Javier willed his heart to stop beating so damned loudly. Kevin’s grip on him was starting to hurt a bit. “Kate Beckett will pay for her sins, starting with the two of you.”

“You’re the bad guy,” argued Javier. It felt necessary to point this out. Rayford seemed to be working under the misconception that he was the victim.

“Oh, you have no idea,” hissed the witch. His breath smelled a little like urine. Javier focused on breathing through his mouth instead of his nose. 

Rayford grasped one of the thin bars of the kennel. The smell of urine was replaced by the acrid scent of burnt ozone as the entire cage was enveloped in a blinding blue flash of light. Behind him, Kevin cried out in pain as the magical current coursed through his little body where he was pushed back against the bars. Javier got his own jolt just from being in contact with the Irishman. He immediately jumped forward to give Kevin space to move away from the charge. While the assault had lasted only a second, Kevin struggled to catch his breath for a few minutes. 

In the meantime, Rayford smiled sickly. “You will not move or speak unless ordered to do so. You will obey every command given to you. You will not whine or cry or make a mess. Do I make myself clear?”

“Listen, jerk--” Rayford charged the cage again. Unfortunately, the bottom of the kennel was made of the same thinly coated steel as the bars and the plastic did nothing to lower the magical conductivity of the prison. There was no way to escape the flood of pain. Javier could barely see past the tears from his watering eyes when the witch stopped his magic. He grit his teeth together and tried to work through the hurt. 

“Do I make myself clear?” repeated Rayford. 

“Fuck you,” whimpered Javier when he could get his mouth to cooperate enough to speak. He braced himself for the next charge but it didn’t come. Instead, Rayford reached through the bars to fist in the front of Javier’s shirt and pull him forward. The witch slammed him a little harder than necessary against the thin rods. With his other hand, the witch gripped his jaw.

“I’d cut out your tongue if my benefactors didn’t enjoy the sound of begging so much,” he snarled. “Though I’ve heard it’s still possible to scream without one.” Rayford released Javier abruptly. He rose to his full height so he could glare down at the boys from a greater distance. “All I care about is that Kate Beckett suffers. If I accidently kill you, I’ll still achieve my goal.”

He marched from the room, using the second exit. All Javier could tell was that it let out into a dark hallway. Nora remained in her seat on the couch, leering at them unblinkingly. Javier forced himself to crowd Kevin into the corner again, now that the threat of being electrocuted was gone. He curled around his smaller partner and wished with everything that he had that this would turn out to be nothing but a horrible nightmare. He did his best to ignore the awful weight of the dead woman’s stare on his back. 

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.   
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art: lsmwalls.tumblr.com/image/58939397473


	37. Second Sunday Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the search for the kids gets started...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence. 
> 
> ***Warning*** This chapter contains mild violence.

### Chapter Thirty-Seven

The hospital allowed Castle to check himself out by early afternoon. Beckett doubted that the discharge had anything to do with Dr. Reynold’s determination that the writer was well enough to leave. It was more likely that the doctor was sick of listening to Castle fret about his missing boys. 

While waiting for Will Sorensen and his team to drive up from the city, Beckett had returned to the hospital to be with Martha and Castle. There was nothing she could do yet at the crime scene. Besides, being with Castle gave her some measure of comfort, regardless of his bullish attitude. After waking from the covertly administered sedatives, Castle had steadfastly refused any kind of painkillers that he couldn’t swallow from a bottle. Reluctantly, Dr. Reynolds prescribed him extra-strength Tylenol and what bed-rest the writer could bear before signing his papers and leaving the room as quickly as possible. 

Castle was less than concerned that he hadn’t made a new friend in the stiff medical doctor. As soon as the nurse finished removing his IV and unplugging the other various machines, Castle rushed out of the bed. He nearly fainted at the too quick movement. Beckett caught his arm before he could fall and urged him to take a little more time. “We got what we wanted, Rick,” she murmured soothingly. “You’re going home. Please don’t kill yourself in the process.”

“You’re right,” he admitted. “Damn it.”

“What’s wrong?”

“If only I’d--”

“No,” interrupted Beckett. “There’s nothing you could have done differently.”

“It’s just…” Castle trailed off and pinched the bridge of his nose against the pounding in his head. 

“It’s just what?”

“Fuck.” Castle took a deep breath. “One minute, I’d finally gotten Javi to agree to play along with the tooth fairy and the next, I’m waking up in back of an ambulance with no idea where my little boys are.”

“We’ll find them.” Beckett wiped a solitary tear off her cheek. “We’re good at what we do, Castle.” She needed to hear the words as much as Castle did. While she wished more outsiders hadn’t been dragged into her case, she was glad to have Sorensen on her side. He was good at his job, too. 

“We will.” Castle stood up a little straighter. Beckett could see the strain in his face from the headache, though he did a very good job disguising his pain. Sometimes, she wished she had half the strength and optimism that her boyfriend did. 

With Beckett’s assistance, Castle changed back into his sleepwear since Beckett hadn’t thought to grab the man some street clothes while she was at the house. Martha returned from her short trip to the on-site pharmacy to fill her son’s prescription just in time to join them in the trek across the hospital. Castle only agreed to the wheelchair if Beckett pushed it. Despite his assertion that he was a pro thanks to his weeks spent in a chair after breaking his kneecap skiing, the hospital staff would not let him wheel himself out. 

The short ride in the chair was enough to leave Castle looking a bit pale and a lot worn by the time they reached the Charger. Castle insisted that his mother take the front seat. Beckett bit back her smile, knowing that Castle was reserving for himself the option to lie down across the back seat. The orderly who had accompanied them to the parking garage bid them farewell and departed with the chair. Beckett drove as slowly and carefully as she could bear.

“Kate, I’m fine,” said Castle. “You don’t have to crawl down the road.”

“Your face is putting the grass to shame, Rick,” countered the detective. That wasn’t actually true. The grass was a much more pleasant shade of green than Castle’s face. “This car is still too nice for the likes of you to be throwing up in the back seat.”

“Do you know what some people would give to have Richard Castle throw up in the back seat of their car?”

“Really, Richard, that’s disgusting,” complained Martha. 

“It’s true,” pouted the author. He let off the fake sadness quickly. “Seriously, though, this pace is making me feel claustrophobic.”

“Okay.” Beckett cautiously pressed down on the gas pedal. She kept the car right at the speed limit and did her best to avoid any bumps in the road. Fortunately, the rich little community of Southampton kept their streets in pretty good shape so it was a fairly smooth ride. 

The Southampton police were still milling about the property when Beckett pulled up in front of Castle’s second home. In addition to the marked cruisers for the local force, two black SUVs were parked a short distance from the house. It had taken the federal agents less time than Beckett expected to reach the seaside haven. 

Beckett parked as closely to the front door as she could. A few of the Southampton officers glanced over at the new arrivals. They quickly looked away when they recognized the scary NYPD detective. Beckett rolled her eyes as she walked around the car to help Castle. 

Special Agent Will Sorensen walked up to greet the trio. He was flanked by two of his own people. “Detective Beckett, Mr. Castle.” The agent held out his hand to shake each of their hands professionally. “I wish we could have met again under better circumstances.”

“Are there ever any good circumstances when it comes to us?” joked Castle.

“Not that I know of,” returned Sorensen with an easy smile. “Please, don’t scare off any more material witnesses, would you?”

“Will, this is Martha Rodgers, Castle’s mother,” introduced Beckett. “Martha, Special Agent Sorensen of the FBI.”

“A pleasure, ma’am,” said Sorensen. He shook her hand as well. Martha returned his greeting with a tired smile. She did raise an eyebrow inquisitively at the detective once the man had turned away. Beckett recalled her slip at calling Sorensen by his first name and blushed minutely. 

As they walked up to the house, Sorensen briefly explained to Beckett what his team had accomplished in the short time they’d been in Southampton. The familiar FBI equipment had been set up in Castle’s upstairs media room, making use of the inherent privacy of the windowless room. CSI had finished their sweep and the FBI’s squad was currently performing their own investigation and comparing notes with the local team. Back in New York City, a team of agents had started running traces on all of Bellefonte’s credit cards and phones while Sorensen’s team completed their commute. 

Beckett slipped her arm through Castle’s as they crossed the threshold and the writer got his first look at the state of his downstairs. “What the hell happened?”

“We’re still trying to determine that, Mr. Castle,” said Sorensen. “It appears that some high-frequency wave was bounced through the room, causing all of the glass to break. It seems that your children put up a bit of a fight, hence the upended furniture.” Beckett squeezed Castle’s hand briefly. She wouldn’t have expected her detectives to submit weakly. 

“Is it safe to stay here?” asked Martha. She looked around the trashed living room with a deep frown. 

“We’ll have a team posted here around the clock,” said Sorensen. “The upstairs looks to have been spared the destruction. However, if you’d be more comfortable at a hotel, we can make arrangements for you to stay at the same place we’ll be at.”

“I’d rather be here,” said Castle. Beckett nodded in agreement. Martha looked less sure, but postponed making her decision. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Beckett caught sight of Chief Brady speaking to one of the CSI technicians. She clenched her jaw momentarily. “Will?”

“Yes?”

Beckett tilted her head in Brady’s direction. “I don’t want that man anywhere near this investigation.”

“The police chief?” Sorensen glanced at the officer in question and then back and Beckett. “I thought you preferred the help of local authorities.”

“Not this time,” the detective said evenly. Sorensen shrugged and nodded at one of his men to ask the police chief to leave. Unfortunately, Brady wasn’t interested in being dismissed so easily. He marched over to the small group with the FBI agent trailing him apologetically. 

“What’s the meaning of this?” Brady demanded. 

“Your assistance is not needed on this case,” said Sorensen squarely. “If anything comes up that you can help us with, I’ll let you know.”

“This is my city and this case is in my jurisdiction,” argued the police chief. “You can’t just kick my people off the case.”

“This is a kidnapping, Chief Brady. As such, it is a federal investigation. If you do not cease interfering with my case, I will be forced to press charges for obstruction of justice.”

“You’re just pushing me out because _she_ has a problem with me,” snapped Brady. 

“Damn straight I have a problem with you,” seethed Beckett. She crossed her arms tightly across her chest to prevent herself from strangling the weasel. Sorensen looked slightly taken aback by the venom in her voice. 

“Sir, it’s their dependents that are missing,” stated the FBI agent. “If your presence is causing them distress, then you need to leave.”

“It’s not even her house,” said Brady, as if that made a difference. Unfortunately for him, he couldn’t have picked a worse ally. 

“Get the hell out of my house, Brady.” Castle glowered at the shorter man. Brady finally looked at the writer. Once he registered the fire in Castle’s eyes and the bandage covering his new stitches, the fight left him. With a series of muttered curses for the group at large, Brady motioned for his force to vacate the premises.

“Thank you,” said Beckett once the Southampton officers were gone. 

“You’re welcome,” replied Sorensen. She could tell by his expression that he would want an explanation for her behavior but he respected her enough to ask in private. 

“Sir,” said one of the suit-clad agents. “I just checked in with headquarters. So far there has been no luck tracking down Rayford Bellefonte. He cut off his phone service and hasn’t accessed any of his accounts in over a week.”

“He’ll have to get money sometime,” said Sorensen. “Keep me updated.”

“Sir.” The agent nodded and swiftly departed. 

“Besides fear, worry, and desperation, how are you feeling?” asked Sorensen. Beckett quirked up the corner of her mouth at his candidness. “Do you need anything to eat or drink?”

“You’re awfully accommodating for a federal agent,” said Martha. 

“Unfortunately, ma’am, the majority of these investigations is simply a lot of waiting. My job is to help you, however I can.” Sorensen offered the actress a small smile. Beckett remembered why she used to like him so much. 

“Well, that’s certainly a fresh take on things,” said Martha. “Is the kitchen ruined, too?”

“It seems that the living room and foyer took the brunt of the damage,” said Sorensen. “If you’ll point things out to me, I’ll make some coffee.”

“Oh, don’t bother yourself,” argued Martha. “I’d feel better if I were doing something, anyway.”

“Very well, ma’am.”

“And please, don’t call me that. You’ll make my feel old.”

“My apologies.” Martha led the way to the mostly intact kitchen. Sorensen joined Beckett and Castle at the bar while Martha hunted for the canister of coffee beans and some clean mugs. 

“So, what can you tell me about the suspect, Rayford Bellefonte?” asked Sorensen. Beckett glanced quickly at Castle. She wasn’t sure how much she wanted to tell the agent about the real identity of the missing boys and her investigation. In the end, she decided to wing it. Together, she and Castle combined their two primary cover stories and wove a tale that the famed mystery writer could certainly be proud of. 

The gist of the story was that some of Castle’s distant relatives were involved in a crime ring where things had gone sideways. The two boys ended up in the middle of the internal conflict and witnessed a few crimes that would have garnered the attention of New York’s finest homicide detective. Since they were already related to the writer, he and his girlfriend had agreed to take them into protective custody until things calmed down. Castle had been adamant about not contacting the authorities, in fear of retribution from those involved. After the incident at Castle’s loft, he and Beckett had decided to move the boys to the Hamptons. Their cover story here had been that Beckett was adopting the two little boys. Over the course of their time spent together, the two adults had grown quite fond of their charges and were therefore understandably upset about losing them.

Bellefonte was explained as a suspect in one of Beckett’s other homicide cases. He’d fostered a personal hatred for the detective and upon learning about the children she was protecting, had decided to get to the detective through them. Sorensen took notes until Martha announced that the coffee was ready. He gently chided the two, who should have known better than to not seek out help immediately when confronted with Castle’s family problems. Beckett took the criticism in stride.

They enjoyed the warm drinks until Sorensen was called away. Castle looked completely worn out, despite the caffeine in his system. Beckett was too anxious to rest herself, so she let Castle retire to the master bedroom by himself. Martha decided to sit with her son in case he needed anything. Beckett couldn’t stand to sit in the messy house, so she scooped up her car keys and headed for her car. She knew it was pointless to drive around the town, as if Bellefonte would just be walking around with her partners in tow, but she couldn’t do _nothing_.

xXx

Kevin was thirsty. His mouth felt like it was filled with cotton. His teeth felt grimy when he ran his tongue over them. While having not brushed his teeth that morning was probably one of the least of his concerns, it bothered him nonetheless. Besides, it was better to worry about that than whatever it was Rayford Bellefonte had planned for them.

Thanks to Javier’s protective position, Kevin was shielded from most of the dusty living room. He couldn’t bear to look at the reanimated Nora, with her horrible rotting face and bottomless black eyes that never stopped staring at them. He didn’t know Javier how could stand her leering. 

The tingling in his limbs had finally dissipated and it was comfortable to breathe again. Kevin made a mental note to go out of his way to avoid being electrocuted in the future. It was not a pleasant feeling, even when the current was actually magical energy instead of true electricity. His tangled hair was still statically charged and no doubt sticking up embarrassingly. Javier was lucky that his hair was a bit shorter and less prone to standing on end. 

Javier shifted in order to find a more comfortable position. He dropped his shoulder, which would have given Kevin a clear view of the creepy dead witch had he not had the foresight to look down at his lap, first. His gaze landed on his skinned knee. A sizable scab had formed over the worse scrape from the soccer game the day before. Fortunately, losing the band-aid and being dragged off to who knows where hadn’t caused it to start bleeding again. 

Kevin didn’t know which was worse; being tortured or waiting to be tortured. At least Lockwood had cut right to the chase. The ice cold water was hell on his lungs, but he’d take that over the full body lightning rod experience any day. The other benefit they’d had with Lockwood was that the man, while sadistic, had just wanted information and would have ended their suffering if Javier admitted how far the cops were in the investigation. Rayford wanted to hurt them just for the sake of causing pain. 

Javier let out a shaky sigh. His warmth breath ghosted over Kevin’s cheek and he shifted again. Kevin wanted to help him find a more comfortable position but didn’t know how. Between the hard surface of the bottom of the kennel and the narrow bars that made up the walls and roof, there wasn’t really anything cushioned to lean against. 

Really, though, a dog kennel? It was kind of stupid, but Kevin felt insulted at the implication that he and his partner were little more than pets to be locked up while their owner was away. At least being handcuffed or chained to something would acknowledge they were humans. 

“Javi?” The unending silence had gotten on Kevin’s last nerve and he needed something to distract himself from worrying about Castle’s well-being. He dared to peek over Javier’s shoulder. To his relief, Nora had finally lost interest in them and was now staring blankly at the wall. The neckline of her dress had shifted, once more revealing the thick stitching that reclosed her chest after Lanie had cut her open. 

“Shh,” replied the older boy. Javier’s nose nearly rested against Kevin’s temple, so his admonishment to be quiet went directly into his ear. Kevin didn’t want to be quiet though. It was making him restless. 

“Javi.”

“Shut up.”

“I don’t want to,” argued Kevin.

“Do you want to get zapped again?”

“Bellefonte can’t hear us if we whisper.” Besides, it was kind of Javier’s fault they’d gotten zapped the first two times, anyway. 

“What’s wrong with you?”

“It’s too quiet in here. It’s hurting my ears.”

Javier snorted in amusement. That kind of tickled the inside of Kevin’s ear. He squirmed, to which Javier protested by tightening his hold. “The quiet hurts your ears?”

“Yes. Haven’t you ever played a blank tape really loudly? It does all kinds of weird things to your head.”

“That explains so much.”

“Jerk.” Kevin was over being smashed against the thin bars. He pushed on Javier until the older boy shifted enough to let Kevin have some breathing room. A short look towards the couch confirmed that Nora hadn’t reacted to their shifting. Their new position left Javier reclining against the back of the kennel and Kevin tucked up against his side with his head on Javier’s bony shoulder. Javier’s cheek rested against Kevin’s forehead. “How’s your tooth?”

“That’s what you want to talk about?”

“I’m concerned about your well-being, though sometimes I don’t know why I bother.”

“It’s gone,” said Javier softly. “It must have fallen out when Bellefonte was moving us.”

“You didn’t swallow it, did you? I remember being worried about that when I was losing my teeth.”

Javier paused before responding. “No, I don’t think I swallowed it.” Kevin regretted worrying his partner, but it was a legitimate concern. You had to be careful about those kinds of things. “I think another damned one is loose.”

“Castle will be happy to have another chance at being the tooth fairy.”

“I’m glad that my teeth falling out makes his day,” said Javier sardonically. 

“Castle got it wrong, though. It’s Santa who leaves lumps of coal, not the tooth fairy.”

“When we get out of here, you be sure to point that out to him.”

“I will,” Kevin promised. He thought for a minute about Castle sneaking into Javier’s room and exchanging something exciting for Javier’s tooth. Maybe Knicks tickets? Javier liked those, and Castle had successfully bribed the Hispanic detective with them before. Kevin frowned when a significant detail in the imagined scene bothered him. “Do you think Castle dresses up like the tooth fairy? You know, like in case Alexis woke up one time?”

“Oh. My. God.” Javier pushed Kevin away from him. “What is _wrong_ with you? Did you drink bleach as a kid or something?”

“What?” Kevin did his best to convey that his feelings were mortally wounded. 

“Ugh, I can’t get that image out of my head.”

“Oh.”

“Oh.” Javier gave him a dirty look. Kevin shrugged and smiled cutely. His smile slipped when his stomach growled. “You pick now to be hungry?” Javier crowded his partner again. Apparently his over-bearing protectiveness was enough to overcome his mental scarring. 

“I’m more thirsty.”

“Me too,” admitted Javier. 

“Do you think Bellefonte will zap us again if we ask for water?”

“Probably.” Javier frowned and looked towards the hallway that Rayford had vanished into earlier. Kevin thought Javier was probably right. He sighed and focused on trying to generate enough spit in his mouth to get rid of the cottony feeling. 

The doorbell rang then, causing both boys to jump slightly. Nora also reacted to the sound. She looked towards the far entryway briefly, and then turned to stare at the captive detectives. She smiled hungrily at them. Javier tried to position himself more fully between the witch and his partner. Kevin wrapped his arms around Javier.

From the next room over, Kevin could hear Rayford’s heavy footsteps as he made his way to the door. A very large part of him hoped that it was a police officer, canvassing wherever it was that Rayford had taken them, looking for two missing boys. The more likely scenario was that it was that Saul person for whom Rayford was waiting. 

The second scenario was proven true when the unnaturally pale witch entered the living room, followed by someone Kevin had never seen before. Actually, that wasn’t true. He looked kind of familiar, upon second glance. The stranger carried himself more easily than Rayford. Streaks of gray accented his light brown hair at his temples. His expensive looking suit fit him well and his shoes were quite shiny. He carried a cane with a finely carved wooden handle. It was obviously just for looks, since he never actually used it to support his weight and he had no discernible limp when he walked.

“Come in,” invited Rayford in his gravelly voice that made Kevin think of being drowned in a tub of ice water. “This is my esteemed mother, Nora. Mama, please meet Saul Davis.”

Nora held up her wrinkly, waxy hand to the newcomer. Davis graciously dipped down to press his lips to the back of her hand in an old-fashioned greeting. Kevin could clearly see the flash of disgust that crossed the man’s face once he’d completed the act. The detective was glad that he and Javier weren’t the only ones averse to the seriously creepy undead woman. It didn’t seem that Rayford or Nora noticed the expression. 

“And these are the children?” Davis quickly sidestepped Nora to stride over to the large kennel set in the corner of the room. He tapped on the side of the cage with his cane, but no amount of prodding was going to get Javier to let go of his partner. The two detectives stared defiantly back at the stranger. Kevin continued to try to recall where he’d seen the man before. He was trained to not forget a face, because one never knew when a suspect was hiding right under their noses. “Aren’t they kind of small?” Javier bristled slightly at the question. 

“They’re children,” said Rayford. 

“Yes, but I imagined they would have been bigger. Valduerez wasn’t this small.” Davis squinted as he peered at the trapped detectives. 

“She was older,” said Nora. “These babies will grow, too.” It was the first time Kevin had heard the witch speak since leaving her house the day they were cursed. She rasped when she spoke now. Her black eyes flashed in the dimly lit room. 

“Well, I’m not sure my master can make use of such small children, no matter what skills they come with.” Davis pulled out his pocket watch and flipped it open to view the time. Kevin wanted to know what time it was, too. That was easier to think about than what Davis’ “master” wanted with cursed detectives. 

“If you don’t like their ages, I can fix that,” said Nora. She coughed slightly into her hand. Kevin thought he saw dust mixed in with her spittle. He could almost sympathize. His throat felt quite raw as well. “How much do you want? Five years? Ten?”

“Five years sounds good,” said Davis. “How old are they now?”

“Something-something,” said Nora flippantly. “They used to be in their thirties.”

“Six and four,” replied Rayford more exactly. “That’s what the detective and her writer friend have been telling people.”

“I see. Do they talk?” Davis knelt down now to get a better look. Kevin was struggling to breathe with Javier pressing him so hard into the corner of the kennel. 

“Yes, about stupid stuff,” said Nora. “Grown men in fairy costumes.”

Kevin felt his face turn pink all of the way up to the tips of his ears. Apparently being undead gave you supersonic hearing, because Kevin was pretty sure he and Javier had kept their conversation to “barely audible”. To his immense relief, Davis seemed to write off the strange comment as some oddity of Nora’s and not his or Javier’s.

“What’s your name, boy?” asked Davis. He focused on Javier. Javier glared silently in response. 

“He asked you a question,” snapped Rayford. The sickly witch kicked the side of the kennel, jarring the two detectives out of their defensive huddle. 

Javier said something very mean in Spanish. Kevin had heard the phrase before, but his partner refused to translate it. Unfortunately, Rayford didn’t need a translation. His scary murderous face jumped out from beyond his physical one. Even Davis inched to the side. Javier held his ground as long as he could but it didn’t take long for his bravado to fail. Rayford gradually calmed down. 

“Well,” said Davis. “They’ll need some training, too.”

“I’ve only had them since this morning. It will be taken care of,” said Rayford. 

“How long will it take to make them bigger and train them up a bit?” 

“A few days,” said Rayford. 

“Good. And it won’t cost anything additional?”

“Of course not,” said Rayford sweetly. It was kind of sour-apple sweet. 

“We’re not for sale,” stated Javier. The full-size adults ignored him. “Bellefonte, you rat bastard! You can’t sell us!”

“Shut your mouth or I’ll knock out the rest of your teeth,” threatened Rayford. 

“When Beckett catches up to you--” 

“Beckett thinks you’re dead!” roared Rayford. “She’s not even looking for you.”

“You’re a fucking liar!”

“I told you to shut up!” Rayford’s scary murder face was back. He crouched next to the kennel and reached through the mesh towards the detectives. Javier and Kevin immediately tried to move out of his reach, but the witch managed to snag the back of Kevin’s shirt. He pulled the fabric back, immobilizing the younger boy with a chokehold as the collar of his t-shirt pressed against his windpipe. 

“Javi!” Kevin used what little air he could draw in through his constricted airways to call for his partner. He tried to get his fingers between the unyielding cotton and his throat, but there was no room. 

“Let him go.” Javier tried to help Kevin tear through the double-stitched neckline but the fabric refused to give. It put him within reach of the maniacal witch but Rayford was more interested in choking Kevin than getting a hold of the older boy. Spots danced in front of Kevin’s eyes and his chest burned. “Stop it!”

“Be quiet,” snapped Rayford. 

“Leave him alone.”

“Shut up.” 

The dots dancing round the edges of his vision blurred together to form a reddish tunnel that grew more narrow with each second that passed. Kevin struggled to move his limbs but he felt like he was underwater. He could barely see Javier through the glaze of his tears. Kevin thought Javier might be crying, too. The older boy clasped his hands over his mouth as he silently pleaded with someone behind Kevin. 

The pressure on his throat was suddenly gone. Kevin nearly choked anew on the air that rushed in to fill his aching lungs. His jelly-like limbs failed him and he sagged against the narrow bars with his silly dinosaur t-shirt still bunched up around his shoulders. It didn’t matter because Javier was there, pulling him away from the mesh and helping him stretch out on his back so his lungs and diaphragm weren’t constricted. If his throat had hurt before, it was nothing compared to the fire that resided there now. 

Rayford and Davis moved away from the kennel to discuss their upcoming transaction some more. Javier dared to draw Rayford’s ire again as he whispered broken apologies through his own labored breathing. Kevin directed what little control he could muster to his hand so he could squeeze Javier’s fingers in forgiveness. His eyelids felt like lead weights were dragging them down. He sacrificed being able to see in order to focus on slowing his breathing and trying to hear the nearby conversation over the pounding in his ears. Javier held his hand tightly. 

Rayford at some point had retrieved the two badges he must have stolen from Castle’s house during the kidnapping. Davis inspected the shields with various comments about how his master could find use for the misappropriated gear. This was the second time Kevin’s badge had been compromised in three years. At the rate he was going, One Police Plaza was going to refuse to issue him a new one. 

“I’ll contact you when the boys are ready for delivery,” said Rayford as he walked Saul Davis to the front door. 

“What about that detective?” asked the visitor. “This is a high-profile retrogression and my master doesn’t want any trouble from the authorities.”

“I’ll deal with her,” promised Rayford. “It will be my pleasure.” The man apparently liked that response because he left then, taking his pointless cane with him. Kevin could breathe easily enough by now to sit upright. Javier hovered next to him closely. They nervously watched Rayford stalk back into the room. 

“Get the vials I prepared for you,” said Nora. She slowly pushed herself off the couch to tediously make her way towards the secretary. She pulled a wire-bound notebook out of one of the drawers. 

Rayford scowled when he saw the book. “I’ll get your grimoire back from Randall soonest, Mama,” he said. Nora nodded in acknowledgement. She sat down in her favorite seat and flipped to a page near the front of the book. Rayford disappeared momentarily and returned with two vials of bluish liquid. 

“Bring the older boy, first,” instructed Nora. Javier instinctively tensed and tightened his hold on Kevin. Rayford undid the combination lock and the door to the kennel swung open. Javier let go of Kevin to latch onto the steel bars when the witch tried to drag him out of the cage. Rayford easily solved that problem by charging the metal again. Javier could only withstand the current for a second before letting go with a cry of pain. The witch bodily hauled the struggling detective across the room after magically sealing the kennel to prevent Kevin from escaping. 

Now that Rayford was, in theory, too far away to harm Kevin, Javier adding screaming to his kicking. Rayford was deceptively strong. Usually he looked like he was about to fall over from the weight of air above him. He had magic to help him, of course. When Javier nailed him in the thigh with a well-placed heel, Rayford shouted an expletive. His hands started to glow and Javier suddenly went still, unable to move. Rayford set him on the ground before Nora. The male witch pinched Javier’s nose to force him to open his mouth. He quickly dumped the contents of one of the vials into Javier’s mouth. Rayford now covered both Javier’s nose and mouth until the inability to draw in any air forced him to swallow. Still immobilized by whatever spell Rayford had cast, Javier was helpless to prevent Nora from placing one hand over his chest and the other on his head. She chanted silently, reading from the page in her notebook. 

Kevin wanted to plead with them to leave his partner alone. He gripped the bars of his makeshift prison and sobbed silently, unable to get his abused vocal chords to produce sound. 

When Nora was finished, Rayford carried the still immobilized Javier back over to the kennel. Kevin was still too weak to effectively resist being dragged out of the cage and put through the same ritual as his partner. It wasn’t until Kevin was dumped back into the kennel and the combination lock replaced that Javier was finally freed from the binding spell. It only took a few minutes for the sickening feeling that he recalled all too clearly from the initial curse to start building in his stomach. This time, they wouldn’t have the luxury of a hospital and pain killers. 

His last cognizant thought before his nausea became too much to bear was the memory of where he’d seen Saul Davis before. He had been at Nora’s funeral. He was one of the Council members who’d tried to stop Rayford when he was murdering Winston Kennedy. 

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.   
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art: lsmwalls.tumblr.com/image/58939397473


	38. Second Sunday Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Beckett feels like she's not making any progress...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Thirty-Eight

Beckett had known that driving around Southampton would be an exercise in futility. Still, the hum of the engine managed to sooth a few of her nerves and she could now think in terms of next steps and avenues of investigation instead of a panicked, “go, go, go!” That’s what kept her in the seaside town instead of driving back to Manhattan or upstate to Bellefonte’s home. The FBI had already sent agents to the rundown ranch house and come up empty handed. 

She pulled over to the side of the road next to a small playground towards the center of town. A small swing-set was located towards the center of the park in the midst of a sea of woodchips. The mindless sway of the hanging seats usually helped Beckett find focus when she was confronted with a difficult case, or more common recently, complicated life choices. She’d been on a swing-set when Castle forgave her for lying about remembering his promise of love during her shooting. She’d been on a swing-set when she realized that she loved Castle in return. Fortunately, this night the sky was clear, as opposed to a torrential downpour. 

Beckett rocked herself back and forth by pushing gently off her heels. Her leather boots never actually left the worn rut in the chips, keeping her grounded both physically and mentally. For a while she just stared into the darkness and tried to remember when the sun had set. Apparently she’d been too pre-occupied to notice the gradual transition from day to night while she was methodically driving the streets of Southampton. 

When that got boring, she pulled out her smart phone and thumbed across the screen to bring it to life. She had a missed text message from Castle. He was awake again and wondering when she would return. She vacillated for a few seconds between calling him or simply responding with another text. In the end, she decided that speaking to Castle about their shared loss would probably undo what little control she’d regained. She typed into her phone that she was just getting some fresh air and would head back shortly. 

A minute later her phone buzzed to life. The vibrating device startled her. She was glad there was no one to witness her near tumble from the swing and the less than graceful dive her phone took to the ground. Blushing in spite of her solitude, Beckett hopped up and retrieved her phone before it stopped buzzing. Randy Bellefonte’s name was splashed across the screen. 

“Hello? Beckett.”

“Detective, it’s Randy Bellefonte.”

“Hi.”

“How are you doing?” He sounded genuinely concerned about her well-being, which both encouraged Beckett and made her eyes start to water. Sometimes she really hated how easy it was to cry after spending so much effort creating a strong façade. 

“I’ve been better.” It was pointless to say she was fine but she didn’t really want to talk about her feelings. 

“I can imagine. Do you have time to talk?”

“A few minutes.” That was about all of the time Beckett thought she could speak before breaking down.

“That’s fine. I’ll keep it short. I drove up to my mother’s house after talking to you this morning. I ran into a few of your friends in high places while I was there.” Beckett chuckled in spite of herself at his description of the federal agents. “I pointed out a few of the nooks they hadn’t torn apart yet, but I think they left disappointed.”

“Yeah, I heard they didn’t find anything useful.”

“I could tell that Rayford hasn’t been to the house since before the visitation. It kind of looks like someone might have hastily packed some clothes and essentials. Mother was always pretty fastidious when it came to stuff being in its correct location. She wouldn’t have left her room in its current state, even if she was just planning to spend the day at home, cursing unsuspecting visitors.”

“So you think Rayford planned ahead to wake Nora at the visitation and disappear somewhere?”

“I’m pretty sure,” replied Randy. “Anyway, I don’t have a key to Rayford’s little hole in the wall, but I’m sure the feds hit there before heading upstate. He wasn’t much for friends--”

“I wonder why,” interrupted Beckett dryly. 

“But there was one witch he used to pal around with. I got lucky and this friend has the same phone number. He told me that he hasn’t spoken with Rayford in almost ten years, though back then Rayford used to talk about how much he liked ‘communing with nature’ in the only park worth mentioning in the area.”

“Central Park?” guessed Beckett. It was the only decent sized park she could think of in the greater New York City area.

“No, Central Park would still be too busy for a witch to really achieve a worthwhile meditative state. It’d have to be on the national forest scale.”

“The only national forest in New York is Finger Lakes National Forest and it’s way over by Rochester,” said Beckett. 

“True, but there’s a decent national forest in Vermont that’s about five and a half hours from Southampton. It’s only three and a half from my mother’s house.”

Beckett sat up a little straighter. “If he took the boys around eight-thirty this morning, he could definitely be at the park by now.”

“I’m not trying to give you false hope or anything, but it seems like the kind of place he might go. Plus, kidnappers tend to like to get lost in vast expanses of wilderness, right?”

“This is definitely worth looking into,” said Beckett. “We don’t have anything else to look at right now.”

“Good. I’ll keep trying to think of other places he may have gone. In the meantime, try to keep your chin up.”

“I will,” answered Beckett. “Thanks, Randy.”

“No problem.” She ended the call. Immediately she sent a text message to Agent Sorensen, briefly summarizing Randy’s reasoning behind looking into a national forest in Vermont. He replied that he’d have a team run a scan on the local establishments to see if Rayford had actually visited the park in question within the past few years. 

The soft crunch of woodchips under old-fashioned boots gave Beckett plenty of warning that someone was approaching her. Beckett kind of wished it was anyone besides Bianca walking steadily in her direction. The white witch was having a rather lucky day running into Beckett in random places. The detective started to wonder if the witch hadn’t somehow managed to put a tracking spell on her, too. The thought put her in a sour mood for the upcoming interaction. 

Bianca stopped a few paces away and tilted her head slightly as she regarded the hunched woman on the swing. Beckett had no idea what Bianca was looking for in her posture, but the witch apparently found something because she moved to sit in the swing next to Beckett’s. “Why are you out here all by yourself, Katherine?”

“I needed some space to think. Alone.”

Beckett had no doubt that the older woman was quite adept at understanding subtext, so she knew Bianca was ignoring her hint to go away. The witch wrapped her long fingers around the plastic-coated chains and looked up at the steel cross-beam spanning between the two A-shaped supports. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a swing,” she mused. “Though, I can see why you would find them a good place to reflect.”

“Did you find your friend?” asked Beckett to change the subject away from herself. 

“I did,” said Bianca. “It does not seem that the older Bellefonte boy did irreversible damage.”

“That’s good.” Beckett stared at her feet as she rocked from her heels to her toes and back, slowly moving the swing. It was quiet for a long time. When Beckett could no longer stand the silence, she asked, “Aren’t you going to ask about the boys?”

“If you’d found them, I doubt you be apart from them right now,” said Bianca softly. 

“Yeah, well, the FBI showed up thanks to my meddlesome captain,” complained Beckett. “I know the lead agent on the case. We used to date. He’ll do a good job and he’s probably my best bet at finding them. Still, I don’t want the agency’s help. I’ve lied to so many people to try to cover up this spell and I can’t even keep track of the story anymore. Will’s good - he’ll figure out that something fishy is going on.” She didn’t know why she was telling the witch any of this. It just felt good to vent a little. 

“You’re surrounded by very intuitive people,” agreed Bianca. “Your friend, Detective Demming, seemed to take the news in stride. You don’t think this FBI agent would believe you?”

“Demming figured it out for himself. Gates kind of did, too. They both saw the boys in their cursed forms. Will would just have my word for it and the truth is really too ridiculous to believe. Besides that, Demming knows Javi pretty well and obviously Gates knows them. I don’t know if Will would recognize them as adults, let alone children.”

“Well, you know your acquaintances the best. You’ll know whom you can trust with your secret.”

“Doesn’t it bother you and the Council that people are finding out that witchcraft is real?”

“Yes and no. We wouldn’t try to hide it if there wasn’t the threat of violent discrimination. You remember the witch trials, don’t you? It’s the general population who fears magic and wants to believe it isn’t real. Your boyfriend is one of the few people I’ve encountered actually open to the idea that there are supernatural beings in the world,” said Bianca. 

“Castle likes to let his imagination run away with him,” said Beckett. “In the five years we’ve been working together, this is the first time there actually has been a supernatural explanation to a case.”

“Lucky you,” said Bianca with an impish smile.

“How come you’re not trying to drive me crazy right now?” Beckett was too far gone emotionally to care that her question was rather rude. 

“Well, I don’t think I’ve ever _tried_ to drive you crazy,” said Bianca. “The situation with your boys has made you quite irate.”

“That’s an understatement,” muttered Beckett. “It just feels like you know so many things that I need to know, and you won’t _tell_ me.” She could already feel the familiar frustration welling in her chest that came with dealing with the white witch. 

“I’m flattered that you think so highly of my wealth of knowledge,” said Bianca. She grinned at the detective. “Alas, I’m not all-knowing. I know a lot about magic and I am pretty good at gossip. While I feel that my understanding of humans and their motivations is above par, I don’t know why adults abduct precious children or where they take them afterwards.”

“Rayford took them because he hates me,” said Beckett sourly. 

“I’m sure that’s part of it.”

“Are you really on my side, Bianca? What’s in it for you if I get my boys back and Randy does manage to break the spell?”

“I want to help you,” said the witch. “You seem to not think so, but I am doing what I can. You need to understand, however, that your world is centered around your work, your boyfriend, and right now, your cursed co-workers. Mine is not.”

As much as Beckett hated to hear the words, she knew Bianca had a point. Beckett went above and beyond to help families find closure and healing after their loved one had been murdered, but that was still a part of her job. She flashed back to the man who’d died in Castle’s pool last summer. Initially, she hadn’t wanted anything to do with the case. Why should she expect a perfect stranger to drop everything to help her when she wouldn’t necessarily do the same if their roles were reversed?

“I’m very fond of children,” continued Bianca. “Not in a creepy cook them and eat them way, mind you. I like them because they’re so excited about life and the world around them. They represent hope and renewal and the continuation of mankind. They have so much potential and an amazing capacity for love. When you’ve been alive for as long as I have, it’s refreshing to be around those who are experiencing things for the first time.”

“But Javi and Kevin aren’t really little kids. They’re not experiencing anything for the first time.”

“And still, they’ve recovered some of their childlike naivety, haven’t they?” 

“Yeah, a little bit, I guess.”

“Even you are young to me, Katherine. You definitely approach life with more enthusiasm than most of the old coots I’m forced to spend time with on the Council.”

“Are all of the witches over a hundred years old?”

“No,” said Bianca. “Only white witches tend to outlast a normal human lifespan, and we’re few and far between. It’s easier to be powerful using dark magic than it is using pure magic.”

“What about Randy?”

“He has potential,” said the older woman. “He’s definitely been a pleasant surprise throughout all of this.” 

“Is it possible that he really found a way to break the spell?”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s possible. I haven’t seen his solution myself, so I don’t know if he actually has,” replied Bianca. 

“Tell me honestly, Bianca. Do you think I’ll find my partners?”

“I haven’t given up hope yet.” It wasn’t really an answer, but Beckett would take what she could get. They made small talk for a while, discussing ways that a witch might be able to seek out information about other witches to which a police detective might not have access. There wasn’t much Bianca thought she could do in that regard, but she’d continue thinking on it while she tended to her injured acquaintance.

They were interrupted when Beckett’s cell-phone rang again. It was from a blocked number. Curiously, she hit the talk button. Bianca watched her expectantly. 

“Beckett.”

Her heart plummeted into her stomach when she recognized the gravelly voice. “Detective Beckett.”

“Bellefonte,” she said through clenched teeth. “Where are you?”

“Do you honestly expect me to answer that?”

“Where are the detectives?”

“They’re beyond your reach now,” said the greasy witch. 

“What did you do to them?”

“Nothing that they enjoyed overly much.”

“Why are you calling me?”

“Because I want nothing more than for you to experience the same anguish that you inflicted upon me when you had my mother imprisoned and murdered,” said Bellefonte. 

“You sick bastard. Your mother deserved everything she got. Those detectives did nothing to warrant her interference in their lives.” Beckett’s fury was helping keep her tears at bay. 

“Well those lives are over now. Soon, I’ll be coming for yours.”

“If you--” The dead air after Rayford Bellefonte hung up was like a siren going off in her ear. 

“What did he say?” demanded Bianca. 

“He-he said their lives are over,” said Beckett. Bianca stood up and moved to Beckett’s side. “I-I…”

“It’s not over yet,” said Bianca. She pulled Beckett forward. The detective pressed her face into the fresh cotton folds of Bianca’s summer coat. Her control failed her and she finally let herself cry over her loss. She was so lost in her misery that she barely registered Bianca’s softly spoken comforts and the solid strength of her embrace.

xXx

Rayford Bellefonte tossed his pay-as-you-go phone onto the dusty couch. His dark smile only lasted a few seconds longer before his ever-simmering wrath erased it. He shot a disgusted sneer in the direction of the large steel crate where the two motionless bodies were sprawled out. They’d finally stopped writhing after forty-five minutes of aggravating noise and sickness. The silence was blissful.

He slowly made his way across the room. He flipped off the light, drowning the space in an inky blackness. Passing through the tiny foyer, he picked up the shovel leaning against the wall. The tattered screen door slammed behind him as he headed out to the edge of the thick woods.

xXx

Castle looked up expectantly when he heard the soft press of footsteps outside the door to the master suite. When Kate passed through the threshold, he could easily see the redness on her cheeks and rimming her beautiful eyes. He shifted some of the papers littering the large bed to the side so she could sit beside him.

“What happened?” Castle asked. He raised his hand to tuck a wild lock of hair behind her ear. It was pointless to ask how things had gone. The answer to that question was obvious in her posture and expression. 

“It’s already been over twelve hours,” Kate replied in barely more than a whisper. Her long, slender fingers picked at the decorative stitching of the bedcover. “Gods, Castle, I’ve seen dozens of parents wait terrifyingly for news of their missing children. Sure, I felt bad for them, but I never knew it was this hard.” She reached up to brush away a few tears. Castle caught her hand on its way back to the silk cover and held it securely in his. “I mean, at least they had the possibility that they’d see their loved one again, right? When my mother died, that was it. There was no chance that she’d come walking through the front door, laden down with case files and last minute groceries for supper. I _knew_ that she’d never sit and comb her fingers through my hair again when I was stressing over an assignment for law school. It’s the _not knowing_ if I’ll see them alive again that’s killing me right now.” 

“It’s okay.” Castle clasped her shoulder with his free hand. She understood that he didn’t mean that the boys were okay, or that the situation was okay, or even that they were okay. He simply meant that it was okay for her to express the cacophony of emotions that had to be colliding within her. If she was experiencing just a fraction of the tumultuous feelings that he was, it was more than he ever wanted her to bear. 

He had to say it for himself, too. Kate didn’t blame him for what happened. She’d said as much and he’d seen the sincerity in her eyes. With time, that might change. Meredith had been fire-breathing mad when Alexis was abducted to Paris. Like any over-protective father, Castle had berated himself for not keeping a better eye on her, too. The difference was, Alexis was an adult. She hadn’t been living at home at the time. He had been trying to give her space to spread her wings and really experience life. 

He hadn’t been holding her two minutes before she was taken. 

So, when Kate decided that it was Castle’s fault that the two little boys were gone, she’d be hopping on a train already in motion. While she was out clearing her mind and trying to cope by racking up the miles on her Charger, he’d sat in this very room and went over a dozen different ways he could have handled Brady’s unexpected accusation that would have prevented Bellefonte from getting Kevin and Javier. It wasn’t until Martha had found him and told him in no uncertain terms that he needed to stop being ridiculous because it was nobody’s fault, that he was able to set aside his guilt and work on fixing the problem. 

Kate pulled her hand out of Castle’s so she could use both to hide her face and take a long, shaky breath. On her exhale, she rubbed at her cheeks once more and sniffled quietly. “How’s your head?”

“It’s still attached to my neck and not letting me forget it.” Castle winced slightly to reinforce his point. The Tylenol was helping but it hadn’t cured the problem. Kate tried to smile at his jib. “You still haven’t told me what happened during your tour of the town.”

“I didn’t find anything,” she said after taking a few seconds to organize her thoughts. “The only lead I came up with was from Randy. He gave me the idea about checking around some national forest in Vermont.”

“Ah, yes,” said Castle. “Green Mountain National Forest, located in the southern corner of Vermont. It boasts over four hundred thousand acres of ‘rugged mountain peaks and quintessential Vermont villages’, with ‘three alpine ski areas, seven Nordic ski areas, and approximately nine hundred miles of multiple-use trails for hiking, cross-country skiing, snowmobiling, horseback riding, and bicycling’. ‘The Forest includes three nationally designated trails: The Appalachian Trail, the Long Trail, and the Robert Frost Recreational Trail.’” 

“Wow, tourism website junkie much?”

“All of that information is provided by your friendly U.S. Department of Agriculture - Forest Service website,” replied Castle. 

“So, does it look promising?” Kate sat up a little straighter and casually pulled one of the maps closer to her seat. It was a plot of New England, all the way from Maryland to Maine. In the southwest corner of the little V-shaped state of Vermont, she could see the green shading that designated the national forest. Idly, she traced the squiggly yellow roads representing interstates from the park down to Southampton. 

“Agent Sorensen thought so,” said Castle. “He took a short break to drive Martha to the hotel. She’s a little spooked by the whole situation and didn’t think she could sleep in the house tonight.”

“Even with Larry, Moe, and Curly patrolling the downstairs?” Ah, so Kate had run into the agents assigned guard duty while the mansion was compromised. 

“Apparently knowing that most of the windows and doors in the foyer and living room were blown out was causing her insomnia.”

“I can understand that,” said Kate. “It doesn’t bother you?”

“Oh, it does, but I don’t think I could sleep anyway. Contractors should be arriving in the morning to give me estimates on what it will take to repair the damage.”

“Castle, I’m really sorry about this.”

“About what?”

“First your loft, and now your beautiful seaside mansion? I feel horrible about what trouble my involvement in your life has wrought.” Kate teethed her lower lip as she gazed remorsefully at her boyfriend. 

“Maybe I brought this upon myself when I got involved in your life,” argued Castle. “It’s just glass and a very nice, expensive wood door. It was getting a little drafty in here, anyway. I needed to upgrade the windows.”

Kate just shook her head, clearly not believing him. He was glad when she set them back on their original conversation. “What did Wi-- What did Sorensen say?”

Castle ignored her slip. “The feds ran through ATM, gas station, and restaurant transactions in the vicinity of the forest, going back a few years. Your witchy doctor friend was right; his brother has been in the area on multiple occasions, including a stint about three months ago.”

Kate unconsciously slipped into her all-business mode. “Could they get any idea of where he was staying in the area, or what he might have been up to?”

“There’s no record of him staying at any of the nearby hotels or lodges. With the size of the withdrawals he made at various points, it’s probable that he paid with cash if he did book a room,” explained Castle. “Sorensen said he’d send some agents to ask around the all-night gas stations that recorded purchases on Bellefonte’s credit card to see if anyone recognized him or had seen him recently.”

“It’s at least three hundred miles from Southampton to the forest if you avoid the ferry to Connecticut,” said Kate, quickly doing the math in her head. “He’d have to stop and get gas somewhere along the route.” 

“He would have paid in cash,” said Castle. “Remember, there’s been no financial activity from him since before this whole mess started.”

“All the better,” said Kate. “If there’s one thing gas stations have, it’s cameras. We need to get someone to run all of the video feeds from any gas station along his possible routes, starting with the most direct. If we’re lucky, we’ll catch him and his vehicle on one of the tapes. He’d have to go inside to pay with cash.”

“Kate, there has to be hundreds of gas stations between here and there. Not only that, the window of time during which he could have stopped is huge. We’d have better luck just stopping random cars on the interstate and seeing if he’s driving one of them.” Castle didn’t want to temper her energy but he also didn’t want her to run false hopes. Plus, that sounded like it would take hours that they didn’t have. 

“Then it’s a good thing we have the FBI to help us,” said Kate with determination. “Between their resources and our figuring out a plausible route and time frame, it should be doable.” 

“So, they could run film from about eight this morning to…” He checked his watch. “Eleven o’clock, assuming he’s reached his destination by now?”

“We could narrow it down to eight-thirty until about nine PM,” said Kate. 

“Why nine?”

“That’s about an hour before he called my cell phone.”

“ _What_?” He was probably doing a fairly good impression of a goldfish as he tried to wrap his mind around the fact that Rayford Bellefonte had apparently contacted Kate while she was cruising for clues and she was just _now_ mentioning that fact?

Kate flushed minutely. “He called around ten to taunt me,” she said. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. 

“What did he say?”

“Oh, he said that he took them to punish me for his mother’s imprisonment and death. It didn’t matter that she tried to ruin their lives, first, because he’d done something awful to them and now their lives were over,” paraphrased the detective. She choked on the last few words and sniffled a couple times. “He said that he’s coming for me soon and then hung up.” 

“Did you get the phone number?”

“It was an out of state number,” mumbled Kate. “I texted it to Sorensen. I haven’t heard back on it yet.” She let out a huff of breath as she tried to hold back an onslaught of tears. Castle could guess that this particular phone conversation was the reason for her puffy expression when she’d walked in. 

“Kate.” Castle grasped her wrists since he was prevented from taking her hands due to tight fists. “They’re not dead. They _can’t_ be.”

“They could be,” argued Kate. “We don’t know.”

“No. They can’t be dead because we’re still looking for them.” Castle found her gaze and held it. He did everything he could to pass his conviction on to her through his eye contact. She stayed with him for a few seconds before breaking down into hiccupping sobs. Castle leaned forward to wrap her in an enveloping hug. His headache pounded savagely within his skull but he wouldn’t let go of Kate for anything. It could split into a thousand tiny pieces for all he cared. 

They stayed that way until Kate’s turmoil eased and her breathing evened out. A polite knock on the door to the hall sent them back into upright seated positions. Castle cleared his throat to call out to whomever was on the other side. 

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m back from the hotel,” said Sorensen through the wood separating them. 

“Thanks,” replied Kate. “We’ll be down in a few minutes.”

“I’ll see you then.”

The two lovers sacrificed a handful of minutes to washing their faces and popping more painkillers. Kate slipped her hand into Castle’s as they made their way towards the stairs. The writer paused at the upper landing. Kate looked over at him curiously. 

“Kate, I just want you to know that no matter what happens, I love you.”

“You’re going to make me cry again,” complained Kate. She blinked rapidly to clear her vision. “I love you, too, Castle.”

He sealed their promises with a chaste kiss. They finally headed downstairs, where Soresen waited for them in the kitchen with a carafe of fresh coffee and a bottled water for Castle. The three of them settled around the table in the breakfast nook. Castle did his best to not think about loose teeth and mid-morning ice cream. 

“We ran the number you provided,” said Sorensen without preamble. “We can’t get a lock on the actual phone yet and there’s a good chance it’s a cheap disposable phone without GPS. We’ll keep trying, regardless.”

“Okay,” said Kate calmly. She was slipping back into her professional persona. 

“Did you hear anything in the background that might give us a clue to his whereabouts?” asked the special agent. 

“No, it was really quiet,” replied the detective. 

“That’s something, isn’t it?” pointed out Castle. “He’s probably not in the middle of New York City.”

“It is something,” agreed Sorensen. Castle didn’t need him to voice the rest of this thought to catch it. Something, but not much. 

“Did you hear anything that might have indicated that he had your boys and that they’re all right?”

“No, nothing.” Kate frowned. 

“It’s okay. Let me know if you think of anything later.” Sorensen gave her an encouraging smile. 

“We had an idea,” stated Castle. 

“Sure.” Sorensen looked at the writer expectantly. Castle quickly outlined Kate’s suggestion to scan the video feeds from all of the gas stations along the possible routes to Vermont to see if Bellefonte showed up on any of them. 

“It’s a long shot, but still a shot,” said Sorensen. “Let me get someone started on that.” He woke up his phone and hit the speed dial for one of his teammates. After parroting back Castle’s description of the possible investigative route, he ended the call and turned back to Kate and Castle. 

“You two should try to get some sleep,” he suggested. “We’ll keep the midnight oil burning.”

“I don’t think I could sleep,” said Kate. Castle was feeling weary thanks to his aggravating concussion, but he refused to let it prevent him from finding his boys. 

“I understand. I’ll leave you in peace, at least.” Sorensen reached over to pat Kate’s hand briefly before leaving them alone in the half-lit nook. It would be almost four in the morning before Castle’s body quit on him and the two headed upstairs to lay down for an hour or so before getting back on the case.

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.   
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art: lsmwalls.tumblr.com/image/58939397473


	39. Second Monday Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the boys escape... almost...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Thirty-Nine

**Warning: This chapter contains depictions of violence.**

The threadbare curtains covering the small punched windows still managed to block most of the sunlight from the outdated living room. Javier blinked a few times to clear the haze from his vision. It took a noticeably long time for everything to come into focus, but when it did, Javier decided he’d give up being able to see clearly in order to banish the aches that accompanied his restored eyesight. His first awakening in this hellhole had been blessed with minor discomforts compared to what he suffered now. 

He felt like he’d just completed his first day of basic training all over again. At least back then he’d had a thin, barely cushioned mattress to lie on when he couldn’t stand to be vertical any longer. Just shifting to find a more comfortable position on the hard steel plate beneath him caused ripples of heat to race through his entire body as his sore muscles flared up. He could remember the previous day fairly well and at no point had he run back-to-back marathons, nor been struck by a semi-truck. He hadn’t felt this awful after his last magical run-in with Nora Bellefonte.

Fortunately, his aches faded at a relatively steady rate as, Javier supposed, his body metabolized the last of the new spell. It stopped feeling like his tendons were trying to jump off his bones and like his skin was two sizes too small. He experimentally wiggled his toes. The action still pulled at his cut soles, though that hurt was also diminished. In a second, he would probably feel able to sit up. 

When he mustered the strength to push himself into a seated position, Javier found that their prison felt a bit more claustrophobic than before. The top of the crate seemed a little lower and the four walls all seemed to have moved inwards. Whereas previously he and Kevin had been able to coexist in the small space without too much difficulty, Javier now thought it was much too small for the both of them. Or maybe that was just because his leech of a partner had once more latched onto him during the night. 

Javier looked down towards his right side where he could sense the heat from Kevin’s body. He had to do a double-take. His partner was no longer the tiny toddler with a dimpled grin. During the time Javier had been unconscious, Kevin had changed. His rumpled hair had darkened by a couple of shades and his face had lost a bit of its roundness. He had grown by at least a foot. The Irishman’s body was now as long as their cage was wide. Last night, there would have been twelve inches to spare. Proportionally, the rest of his body had increased in size as well. 

Javier inspected his own figure. Like his partner, his hands and feet were a little bigger, his shoulders were a little wider, and he was definitely taller. He easily came to the conclusion that the spell forced upon him and his partner by the evil Bellefontes had once again manipulated their physical ages. They’d agreed upon five years with Davis, right? That meant he was now in the body of an eleven-year-old and Kevin was in one of a nine-year-old. 

“An improvement if not for these freaking tight quarters,” Javier said out loud. There was no one around besides his sleeping partner to hear him test out his voice. To his dismay, it was still frustratingly high-pitched. He coughed a couple times around the dryness in his throat and mouth. 

It was then that he registered what he was wearing. His X-Men t-shirt and matching bottoms were gone. They had been replaced with a cheap white men’s undershirt and black cotton shorts. Kevin was similarly changed, though the new attire fit Javier much better. As for how he’d come to be in the plain clothes; that was something Javier filed away with other things to never, ever, think about.

Someone had also cleaned out the far end of the kennel where the two boys had been painfully ill before collapsing near their current positions and passing out. Most of the sickness had centered around dry-heaving, unlike their first introduction to magic. Javier suspected that was due to his and Kevin’s having not eaten anything since Saturday evening. 

Really, Saturday? It had to be Monday by now, at least. As if sensing his thoughts, his stomach rumbled loudly. Javier knew that they could go a while longer without food, but they wouldn’t last beyond a day or two more without water. Of course, there was nothing edible within reach of the metal cage. 

Javier debated with himself over whether he should try to wake Kevin or not. The smaller male’s face was pinched with pain and his breathing was labored, even in sleep, so ultimately Javier decided to let him remain oblivious to his hurt for as long as possible. If Javier couldn’t figure out a way to free them from their prison, there was no reason to be awake, anyway. The Hispanic detective carefully extracted himself from Kevin’s hold and slowly moved towards the door of the crate. 

The room was empty besides himself and his partner. While he much preferred the absence of the creepy dead witch who liked to stare at them and lick her lips, he was curious as to where they’d gone. It was uncomfortably quiet in the rundown house. He half expected one of them to suddenly pop out of the shadows and catch him surreptitiously trying to figure out the three number combination for the lock. Every creak in the structure or overly loud bird call from outside caused him to jump slightly and glance nervously around the room. 

Javier knew that he and Kevin had figured out the first number in the series. He pursed his lips as he tried to recall it. Twenty… twenty-three… twenty-eight. That was it. Javier stuck his hand through the steel mesh of the crate walls and pushed the lock up again so he could see the dial. He spared one last glance around the room to make sure no one would catch him doing something that would surely result in a painful punishment. Javier wouldn’t have cared if Bellefonte took out his frustration at Javier’s behavior on Javier, but he wouldn’t risk getting Kevin hurt again. The ring of bluish-black bruises still adorned his partner’s pale throat even after the transformation. 

Being paranoid and only devoting half of his attention to the task at hand made it nearly impossible. There was no way that the older boy could hear the faint click of the correct turn when he was listening for distant footsteps instead. Javier took a deep breath and wiped at his brow. This crappy house didn’t have air conditioning and the July heat was starting to seep into the room around the aged curtains. 

Castle had long ago told Javier and Kevin that he had been able to crack a combination lock like this in just two attempts while under duress thanks to a starving, man-eating tiger. Not only that, he’d been hand-cuffed to Beckett at the time. Beckett had later clarified that it had taken Castle _forever_ to undo the lock and they hadn’t known about the tiger yet. Javier was hoping for a happy medium right now. The ex-Special Forces soldier should be able to get himself out of a mess like this more quickly than a flighty writer. He’d brag to Castle when they met up again. 

Because Castle was fine. Javier gritted his teeth together and swallowed a bitter curse when he turned the dial three-hundred and sixty degrees without feeling the next tumbler engage. Castle was fine, Kevin was fine, Javier was fine, and Beckett was probably turning the state of New York upside down at that very moment. 

Start over. Javier spun the dial about six times just to make sure it was reset before finding the twenty-eight. This time, he pushed all thoughts of Castle and the witches out of his mind and focused solely on the lock. The tip of his tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth and he closed his eyes in hopes it would amplify his hearing. He was rewarded with a barely perceptible pop when he hit the number twelve. Javier hadn’t even realized he was holding his breath until his lungs burned upon his slow exhale. He indulged in a half-smirk.

Twenty-eight, twelve. Javier carefully turned the lock in the opposite direction. He was so going to own Castle when it came to lock-picking. Come on, come on, come-- “Ow!” What the fu--?!

Javier dropped the lock and turned to glare furiously at his slowly waking partner. Kevin was oblivious to Javier’s ire. The smaller male pulled back the foot he’d just used to peg Javier in the side of the leg and whimpered as he became aware of all the ways it was possible to ache. His pained squirming continued. Javier’s irritation quickly left him. He crawled back over to hover over his partner, wishing he could do something to comfort the Irishman. 

Kevin’s vibrant blue eyes fluttered open. Javier told himself to not worry when Kevin’s gaze was unfocused. He’d had to deal with his own blurry vision upon waking, too. “Hey, Kevin, it’s okay,” whispered Javier. He gripped Kevin’s shoulder to give him partner a point of anchorage as he navigated waking up. “Can you hear me, Kev?”

“Javi.” Kevin blinked slowly, trying to reconcile the vaguely familiar voice with the figure leaning over him. “Why you…?”

“Why me, what?” Javier shifted his full weight to his knees so he could continue squeezing Kevin’s shoulder and use his other hand to cup Kevin’s cheek and keep the younger boy looking up at Javier’s face. Kevin’s thin fingers wrapped loosely around Javier’s wrist. 

“Why?”

“You’re the one who likes all that philosophical stuff. I don’t know ‘why’.”

“Ow?”

“Yeah, I know it hurts, but it gets better,” promised Javier. “Look at me.”

Kevin’s brow wrinkled as he finally managed to focus on his partner. “You…”

Javier was not a mind reader, but he’d spent enough time with his silly partner to be able to guess what might have stolen Kevin’s concentration at the moment. “Look different? So do you, bro.”

“Why?”

Javier worried that Bellefonte had scrambled Kevin’s brain during the spell. The reason they looked different had been pretty clear to the older boy. “Bellefonte cast another spell on us,” he explained. “He gave us back five years.”

“Oh.” The look of confusion didn’t leave Kevin’s face. He looked off to the side, taking in the black coated steel bars that made up their prison and the outdated décor of the room beyond. Javier pulled his hands back while he waited for Kevin to regain his full memory. It took a few minutes, but Kevin finally looked at Javier again. “Castle?”

“He’s fine.” Kevin seemed to take Javier at his word since he let the subject drop. “Can you sit up?”

“I think so. You’re right, it does stop hurting so much.”

Javier helped Kevin into a seated position. The younger male swayed dangerously and ended up face-planting against Javier’s chest. The Hispanic detective held him awkwardly until Kevin felt up to trying again. This time, he stayed upright, though he pressed his palm to his forehead and complained about feeling dizzy. “It’ll pass,” said Javier. He had his hands on Kevin’s shoulders in case the Irishman tried to fall over again. “Can you hold yourself up?”

“Yeah,” muttered Kevin. He took a series of shallow breaths and swallowed compulsively. Javier could sympathize. His own parched throat was screaming for a drink. 

“I figured out another number for the combination lock,” announced Javier. “I’m going to keep trying until the Bellefontes return.”

“Where’d they go?”

“I don’t know. Hopefully to hell.” Javier warily released his partner. Kevin slouched back against the steel mesh but stayed mostly vertical. Javier scooted back over to the door and slipped his hands through the bars. With a renewed sense of motivation, Javier spun the dial on the lock and pressed his ear to the metal. 

It took several more tries and a few whispered curses, but Javier finally tugged on the body of the lock and the U-shaped pin disengaged. The sound echoed through the room and Javier held his breath, fully expecting Rayford Bellefonte to burst into the room and do something awful to them. 

Nothing.

“You did it,” praised Kevin. The smaller boy moved to Javier’s side with a reassuring amount of agility. 

“Yeah.” Javier smiled winningly at his partner. Kevin returned the look. “Come on, we need to find food and water.”

Javier slowly pushed open the crate door and crawled out. He waited impatiently for Kevin to follow him. Once they were both out, Javier closed the door and slipped the lock back through the latch. Maybe, if they didn’t manage to escape, the lock would prove to be a helpful hindrance to Bellefonte’s attempt to get them back into the insulting cage. 

Javier threaded his fingers through Kevin’s and guided the younger boy towards the far doorway. It seemed to lead towards the outside, which is where Javier ultimately wanted to end up. There were no curtains blocking the sun from shining through the dirty glass of the front door. It took a minute to adjust to the brightness. By that time, they were sneaking into the kitchen off of the other side of the tiny foyer. 

The linoleum was cracked and peeling and covered by a mess of various stains that Javier did not wish to identify. He unconsciously pushed himself onto his toes, not wanting to let any more of his bare feet contact the disgusting surface than was required. Kevin, whose tenuous balance wouldn’t afford him the same luxury, made soft sounds of revulsion as he obediently followed his partner towards the sink. On the way, they passed unidentifiable brownish masses that appeared cemented to the floor and more dead cockroaches than Javier could count with a quick glance. 

The laminate counter was in the same condition as the floor. Water stains on the once sky-blue surface indicated multiple plumbing problems. Javier was grateful for his extra height as he reached over to turn one of the faucet knobs while avoiding touching the countertop. The brass was nearly corroded to the point of being unusable, but Javier managed to twist the knob enough to cause an angry hiss and the knocking of old pipes in the wall. He snatched his hand back as if he’d been burned and waited tensely for the appearance of an angry witch. Kevin crowded against his side, also scanning the room with trepidation. 

The only thing that arrived was a glob of black goo that landed in the bottom of the rusted steel sink with a sickening splat. A few smaller drips followed it. It smelled like a New York City sewer. Javier and Kevin both covered their noses. To Javier’s dismay, nothing else spewed from the old faucet. The piece of crap shack didn’t have running water. 

He turned to face the rest of the kitchen. There was a stained square on the linoleum where a refrigerator once stood. The cabinets that hadn’t fallen off the walls were hanging open and filled only with cobwebs. Javier could understand the creepy dead witch not requiring sustenance, but what about Rayford? He had to eat and drink. 

Something made the hair on the back of his neck rise and goose bumps pop out across his lower arms. Kevin squeezed his hand tightly. They’d have to find water somewhere else. Javier needed to get them out of the shack immediately. 

Throwing caution to the wind, Javier tugged his partner towards the front door. He ignored the squelch of the gross flooring under his feet as they ran as fast as Kevin could manage. The door was unlocked - more likely, it was unable to be locked - so Javier shoved it open with his free hand. The two boys tumbled out onto the splintered and deteriorated front porch. Javier paused for a second to take in the scenery.

For as far as he could see, there were trees. The tall, thick trees blocked out the sun and cast long shadows over the undergrowth. Only the shack and the twin ruts that served as a driveway were located within the circle of light formed by the small clearing. Javier’s heart sank. They were nowhere near civilization. 

The instinct to run pulsed in the back of his mind again. There was no time to cry over their predicament. “Come on, Kev,” Javier said. The grass between the ruts of the drive was relatively short and soft, so Javier picked that course for a quick getaway. He could tell that a car had driven here recently. That meant it was probable that a car would be returning shortly. He wanted to cover as much distance as possible before seeking shelter in the woods. 

“Where are we?” asked Kevin around panting breaths as he struggled to keep up with Javier. Despite the evenness of their path, Kevin seemed to trip over the slightest bump. 

“The middle of nowhere,” replied Javier. He didn’t have a built-in GPS. Without his phone, he was completely lost. He doubted, anyway, that he’d get good reception out here. Their only hope was to follow the drive that had to lead to a road. They’d find someone who could help them, then. 

They had been intermittently jogging and running for about twenty minutes along the never-ending drive when a horrible sound reached them. The distant rumble of the car engine made Javier’s heart skip a beat. Kevin yelped when Javier suddenly changed direction and darted into the forest. The younger male bravely endured the rocks and twigs underfoot as they searched desperately for cover. Javier finally found a promising bush and pushed Kevin behind it. Kevin didn’t complain when the action caused him to land on his hands and knees in the dirt. Javier peppered him with apologies as he tried to help brush the dark soil off of Kevin’s newly skinned knee and aching palms. 

“Hey, at least you match now,” whispered Javier into the tangled dark blond hair above Kevin’s right ear. The scrape from Saturday’s soccer game had opened again and now a shallow cut graced his other knee. Kevin gave him a watery smile in return. Javier crouched over Kevin and wrapped his arms securely around the smaller boy as he peered through the dark green leaves. He could just make out the edge of the drive. The sound of the engine was getting louder. Javier idly noted that the automobile could use a new muffler. 

Kevin shivered, despite the heat of the late morning, and curled into Javier. Javier promised to rib his partner about being so out of shape. Despite the adrenaline coursing through him and burning away the cloud of dizziness that accompanied an empty stomach, Javier’s breathing had already returned to normal after their brief exertion. Kevin was panting and Javier could hear his partner’s heart thumping loudly and rapidly. 

A brownish-gold Buick passed through Javier’s sight-line. It was going too fast for the condition of the drive and the sun glinted off the glass windows, preventing Javier from confirming that it was Bellefonte. Once it was beyond them, Javier stood up and reached for Kevin’s hand again. The Irishman looked dangerously pale but he didn’t protest when Javier urged him to run again. Javier’s burning throat was confirmation that they needed to find water quickly. 

Together they stumbled along a made up path through the woods, dodging the worst of the prickly plants and trying to stay on the mostly smooth dirt. Javier didn’t care if they were leaving a trail of footprints or broken branches in their wake. Speed was their only hope. 

The woods ended suddenly, spilling the two boys out onto an actual road. It wasn’t paved, but it looked maintained. The dirt was well-compacted and the narrow shoulders had short, trimmed grass. Javier had no idea which way to go. The dirt road stretched out in either direction and disappeared around sharp bends. What he could see, however, was that the ruts for the shack’s drive curved naturally towards the left as if that was the more common route. Javier and Kevin minced over the rocky end of the drive to the soft shoulder of the dirt road and set out running again. Javier knew they only had a very short time until Bellefonte realized they were gone and came looking for them. He wouldn’t bother with seeking cover until they heard the sound of a car again.

With every step, Javier felt more and more paranoid. Any second, Bellefonte would come bearing down on them and cut short their escape. He thought he might have a stroke from the stress. 

Kevin tripped suddenly and landed flat on his belly. Javier nearly went down with him but recovered at the last second. “Get up,” Javier urged. He pulled on Kevin’s arm. 

“I’m sorry, Javi,” said Kevin tearfully. “It hurts and I can’t run anymore. You keep going.”

“Hell no,” snapped the older boy. “I know it hurts. My feet are killing me and my throat feels like it’s on fire but we _have_ to keep going. You can do it, Kev.” 

“I have such a bad cramp,” complained the Irishman. “I can’t breathe. Just go. I’ll hide and you can bring help.”

“I’m not leaving you here.” Javier would not back down. “As soon as we’re big again, I’m hauling your lazy ass to the gym.”

“It’s not… I’m not out of shape,” argued Kevin. He managed to get to his knees. His face was red and covered with a sheen of precious moisture that he couldn’t afford to lose. Javier took some comfort in the fact that his partner was sweating. “I just… feel wrong. It still hurts. I can’t keep going, Javi. I’m sorry.”

“You _can_ keep going. Get up.” Javier pulled on Kevin’s arm again and used his larger form to haul the Irishman to his feet. He hugged his partner tightly when Kevin nearly collapsed again from a rush of dizziness. “Just hold on a little longer, Kev. We’re going to find help, okay? Just a little longer.”

After nearly a minute, Kevin nodded weakly against Javier’s shoulder and tentatively shifted his weight back so he was standing upright on his own. Javier gave him an encouraging smile. “Don’t cry, _corazón_. You need to keep the liquid inside of you.” Kevin sniffled once and wiped the back of his hand under his nose. He gave Javier a more steadfast bob of the head to indicate they could go again. 

Javier was having a difficult time gauging how much ground they’d covered but it felt like nearly a mile before they reached another intersection. This road was also constructed of packed dirt and gravel, but it was big enough to include road signs. Javier gripped one of the rusted metal sign posts to confirm that it was real and not just a figment of his imagination. The bent sign warned motorists that the road on which Javier and Kevin had just been traveling led to private property and no trespassing was allowed. Across the dirt road, a larger sign indicated that there was a trailhead and designated camping area about five miles ahead. It was topped with the logo for a Green Mountain National Forest. The name sounded vaguely familiar to Javier, like he’d seen it a long time ago on a map when he was looking for something else. 

“Campers are good,” muttered Kevin.

“Very good,” agreed Javier. “Let’s go.”

Now, Javier longed for the sound of a vehicle. He let them walk for a while, feeling encouraged by having a destination in mind and a known distance to travel. Kevin worried his lower lip as he stayed very close to the Javier’s side and kept his eyes downcast as he concentrated on putting one bare foot in front of the other. Javier began to think that Bellefonte must have started searching for them on foot and possibly started in the woods directly surrounding the shack. It was the only explanation for why the witch hadn’t appeared yet. He dared to let himself hope that they’d actually succeed in finding help. 

That was a mistake. He turned expectantly at the loud rumble of a car engine and nearly started bawling at the sight of the brownish-gold Buick. Kevin did let out a whimper of dismay. “Hide,” Javier ordered. They once more hurried into the thick trees. What Javier didn’t count on was a sharp drop off that was cleverly hidden by a line of unfriendly bushes. 

The tumble down the rocky slope felt like it would never end. In reality, it probably only lasted a half of a minute. Javier sprawled out on his back at the bottom of the dry ravine and scowled up at the forest canopy. Once he had mentally taken stock of his new bumps and bruises and made sure he hadn’t broken anything, Javier pushed himself up and sought out his partner. Kevin had landed a few feet away from him. The Irishman was curled up on his side, shaking silently. Javier quickly checked him over and thanked whoever was watching out for them that Kevin was also no worse for wear. 

“A little longer, Kevin,” coaxed Javier. “Come on.”

Kevin slowly uncurled from his protective ball and struggled to find his feet. Javier helped as much as he could. They were both standing eventually. Javier could hear the cracking of twigs as a much larger body navigated the treacherous slope. Bellefonte skidded down the last couple feet of dirt on the heels of his black loafers. His artificially white face was twisted in fury. Javier was momentarily frozen at the sight of the witch. 

“Come here, you little shits,” Bellefonte ordered. He slipped into Spanish as he lividly expressed how much he was going to enjoy skinning the two of them alive for trying to run. Javier was kind of glad Kevin couldn’t understand the manic ramblings. He finally broke out of his stupor and grabbed Kevin by the elbow. 

They only made it about a dozen steps before Bellefonte grabbed the back of Javier’s oversized shirt and jerked him backwards. Javier landed hard on his back in the dried leaves. He kicked frantically at the bony hands reaching for him and prayed that Kevin was still running. Bellefonte continued to yell at him in hateful Spanish. The witch caught one of Javier’s ankles and tugged the boy forward. The rough sticks and stones under him scraped Javier’s back as his shirt rode up. Bellefonte spewed some witchy mumbo-jumbo and Javier lost control of his limbs. It felt like the same restraining spell Bellefonte had used on him before casting the transformation magic. Javier could do nothing as Bellefonte turned and reached through a bush to drag out a weakly struggling Kevin. 

With the same restraining spell on the Irishman, Bellefonte tossed the smaller boy over his shoulder. Bellefonte sneered a warning at Javier to stay put before making his way back up the slope. Javier couldn’t have moved if he wanted to. 

Bellefonte returned a few minutes later and Javier nearly threw up at the dizzying sensation of being thrown over the man’s shoulder. Bellefonte smelled like antiseptic and formaldehyde. Javier tried to struggle but it was to no avail. They reached the shoulder of the dirt road eventually, where the Buick was haphazardly parked. Bellefonte carelessly dropped Javier into the open trunk, nearly depositing him on top of Kevin. The witch slammed the trunk lid angrily, leaving his captives in the stuffy pitch black. 

The car vibrated to life and Javier mentally charted their path back to the shack. It took much less time to reach their destination than it had for Javier and Kevin to make it as far as they did. Bellefonte popped open the trunk and grabbed Javier by the scruff of his neck. Kevin received a similar treatment. The restraining spell wore off as the older man frog-marched the boys back over the porch, through the foyer, and into the drab living room where Nora Bellefonte was primly seated in her favorite spot. He pushed them to the ground before the cracked hearth. Nora cackled gleefully as her son retrieved a short leather belt with an oversized silver buckle. 

Bellefonte grabbed both of Kevin’s narrow wrists in one hand and dragged the Irishman to his feet. In an unexpected show of strength, the witch held the nine-year-old upright with one arm while he brought the belt down savagely across the boy’s lower back. Kevin cried out wretchedly. “You will not run from me,” Bellefonte hissed. _Crack_! “You will do what you’re told, when you’re told to do it.” _Crack_! “You will not talk back.” _Crack_! “You will not disobey a single command.” _Crack_! Bellefonte continued the beating until he’d delivered about a dozen blows. Kevin was crying steadily by then and all of his slight weight was being supported by Bellefonte’s crushing grip on his wrists. Javier shouted at the crazed man to stop. “You’ll get your turn,” promised Bellefonte as he nimbly kicked Javier away. 

True to his word, Bellefonte let Kevin fall to the hard wood floor a minute later and came after Javier. Javier bore his punishment as stoically as possible but it only took a few biting blows from the buckle to rip the first sound of pain from his scorched throat. Bellefonte repeated the same set of instructions he’d given the younger boy about obedience. When the beating finally ended, Bellefonte started to drag them both across the living room. Instead of depositing them back inside the oversized dog kennel, Bellefonte continued on to a grimy bookcase. He chanted a few words and the wooden furniture suddenly started to move. Beyond it was a narrow room with a dirt floor and loosely stacked timber walls. The mud that had previously filled in the gaps between the timbers was dried out and cracked. In many places, the sun and heat easily seeped through the small openings. The roof was little more than a thatched covering. The moldy thatching shifted and Javier swore he could see beady eyes peering back at him. 

Bellefonte pushed the boys to the ground next to a thick timber column into which iron brackets were bolted. Rusty chains were threaded through the loops. They ended with old fashioned manacles. Javier couldn’t force himself to resist the witch as Bellefonte locked one of the iron bracelets around his ankle and then did the same to Kevin. With one final sneer, Bellefonte exited the hidden lean-to and the door closed behind him. 

Javier moved his aching body as close to his partner as possible, though he left a few inches between them. Kevin’s back was bleeding through the soiled white shirt. Javier suspected his own backside was in the same condition. He didn’t want to hurt the smaller boy by putting any pressure on the fresh wounds. Not only that, it had to be about one hundred degrees in the cramped space. It was hard to breathe, thanks to both the heat and the horrible smell of decaying flesh. 

The smell was compliments of the long-dead body chained to a column at the other end of the lean-to. Javier couldn’t even tell what gender the unfortunate victim was. With a shaky sigh, Javier resigned himself and his partner to a similar fate. 

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.   
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art: lsmwalls.tumblr.com/image/58939397473


	40. Second Monday Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Beckett can't sit still any longer...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Forty

Beckett swore loudly and stomped across the kitchen to slam her fist down on the granite countertop. She could feel the eyes of the rest of the room’s occupants on her as she struggled to keep from exploding on them all. Special Agent Sorensen slowly slipped his phone into his pocket as he watched her warily. Said phone had just been the bearer of bad news - after hours of searching the gas station footage, there was still no sign of Bellefonte or her partners. 

“Kate?” Castle timidly approached her, holding out his hands in a non-threatening manner. 

“Don’t ‘Kate’ me!” Beckett ran her shaky hand through her hair. She hated waiting. “It’s nearly two o’clock. The twenty-four hour mark is long gone and we still have nothing!”

“We’ll find them,” said Castle softly. 

“When?! After they’re dead, if they’re not already?” Beckett knew she was being irrational. Her fatigue pulled at her and the caffeine combined with adrenaline flooding her system was causing her whole body to shiver. What was taking so long? Did they have only one suit-clad monkey running one tape at a time in slow motion? “I need to go for a drive.”

“Kate, you need to stay here,” argued Sorensen. “If we somehow manage to get a track on them, I need to be able to quickly reach you. How would you feel if we brought them in and you were four hours away?”

“Like I was _doing_ something,” snapped Beckett. 

Sorensen sighed and turned towards the dinette where a trio of wide-eyed spectators were watching the altercation closely. “Can’t you prescribe her a Xanax or something, doctor?” 

“Shut up, Will.” Beckett glowered at her long-time friend. At the table, Randy Bellefonte raised his hands defensively. He wasn’t about to cross the homicidal detective. 

The younger Bellefonte brother had driven up that morning after calling to secure Castle’s address. At first, Sorensen had been reluctant to allow their suspect’s immediate family member in on the investigation. He’d warmed to the doctor after Beckett had personally vouched for Randy. Randy further helped his case by answering all of the agent’s questions to the best of his ability and being completely transparent with everything he knew about his estranged brother. Bianca had also appeared earlier in the day to check on the search. She’d left a while ago to contact a few of her sources to see if rumors had started spreading about the abduction. 

“Maybe we could start driving towards Vermont,” suggested Castle. Beckett appreciated that he was trying to help, except that he wasn’t actually helping. 

“There’s no guarantee they’re there,” said Sorensen. 

“But Randy said--” 

“It was just an idea,” interrupted the doctor in a low voice. “Apparently not a very good one, either.”

“We’re not finished exploring that route yet, Mr. Castle. We just need to leave ourselves open for other possibilities, too.” Sorensen pulled out his phone once more and tapped a few times on the screen. His frown told Beckett all she needed to know. Still nothing. Beckett chewed on the nail of her right index finger. She had to consciously stop her leg from bouncing nervously as she leaned against the counter. 

“Let’s talk logistics, then,” suggested Castle. He lowered himself back into his chair at the dinette. Martha reached over to squeeze his lower arm and smile sadly. The last person at the table was another useless FBI agent. 

“Okay.” Sorensen nodded for the writer to continue. 

“Say we do find something to confirm that Bellefonte has gone to his hideout in the woods. Where do we go from there?”

“We’d collaborate with the local authorities at all levels and organize a full sweep of the area. I also have people trying to pin down where Bellefonte might have stayed on his previous trips, which will help us narrow down the search area.”

“How long will that take?”

“It depends on how much ground we have to cover,” said Sorensen. “Hopefully less than twenty-four hours.”

“Are we watching the roads in and out of the park in case he was there and decides to move to another location?” asked Beckett. 

“Kate, we don’t have anything more than a wish to go on concerning the national forest,” said Sorensen. “I can’t authorize that kind of expense without a more concrete lead.”

“Then what good is the FBI?” Beckett was being unfair and she knew it. That didn’t change the fact that she felt helpless and couldn’t stand it. Rayford had practically told her that he had murdered her partners. It was only her grief-driven denial that kept her going until she could see their lifeless bodies for herself. 

She couldn’t explain why, but her instincts were screaming at her to go to Vermont. With every minute that ticked off the clock, their chances of finding the boys alive, if at all, dwindled a little more. She couldn’t bear to sit in Castle’s broken summer home any longer. Even the comings and goings of the contractors hired to fix all of the broken glass wasn’t enough of a distraction. 

She pushed off the counter and marched over to where her purse and keys rested near the sink. “Where are you going, Kate?” asked Castle. 

“I’m not idly sitting here while that monster tortures my little boys,” she announced. “You all can stay here, sitting on your thumbs, but I’m heading north.”

“Kate, wait!” Castle nearly upended his chair as he hurried to stand and move to her side.

“You can’t stop me, Rick.” Beckett cursed her emotions as they swelled in her chest. Being on the verge of crying all the time was giving her a headache that likely rivaled Castle’s concussion. 

“I’m not trying to,” he said soothingly. “I trust your instincts, Kate. I trust you. Just… Give me a second to grab my wallet.”

“This isn’t a good idea, Detective Beckett,” stated Sorensen as Castle left the room to grab his stuff before the long trip. If he thought using her title would gain him any additional cooperation, he was destined to be disappointed. 

“Save it, Will.” Beckett brushed past him and stormed towards the hole in the wall where the front door had once stood. At the sound of footsteps behind her, she spun around with a venomous jibe on the tip of her tongue. She deflated slightly when she saw it was only Randy. 

“Can I join you?” he asked. 

“Okay,” Beckett agreed. Hopefully his magical abilities would be of some benefit to them. Castle finally returned and they stepped outside. Castle started for the garage while Beckett aimed for her Charger. “Where are you going?”

“We should take the Mercedes,” said Castle. 

“I want to take the Charger.”

“The Mercedes is more comfortable.”

“The Charger is faster.”

“The Mercedes has the car seats in it for when we bring the boys home.” Beckett actually paused to think about that for a minute. 

“Still, the Charger is faster.”

“What about the speed limit?”

“A suggestion for those who aren’t searching for missing people. Besides, Castle, my car is outfitted for police work. It’s better and I need to _drive_.” 

“Fine,” Castle finally capitulated. He glanced at Randy. The doctor had his small overnight duffel slung over one shoulder. “You’re coming?”

“If you don’t mind.” Castle shrugged and gestured towards the blue Dodge. The three adults climbed into the muscle car. The engine came to life with a purr when Beckett turned the key. The sound and accompanying vibration went a long way towards calming Beckett’s frayed nerves. She took a deep breath and threw the car into drive. Castle only protested for a minute as she peeled out of the drive and sprayed gravel into his perfectly manicured lawn. 

“Are you going to take 495 or 84?” asked Castle once they were barreling through Southampton. 

“I-495 is shorter,” replied Beckett. 

“I-84 might be faster.”

“Fine.”

“Can you get us there without killing us?”

“Castle,” she said warningly. 

“Well, the good doctor is already looking like he regrets coming.”

Beckett spared a glance in the rearview mirror. Randy did look a bit nervous but he smiled at her through the small mirror. “Castle, I’m a trained police detective. I know how to drive during a high-speed chase.”

“Technically, we’re not chasing anyone.”

“Shut up.” Beckett pulled onto the freeway and pressed the gas pedal to the floor. The car’s odometer flickered in the red for a few seconds before the transmission caught up with the gear changes. She had to slam on the brakes to avoid hitting the moron who’d just cut her off by changing lanes. Castle double-checked his seat belt. 

“Doctor, do you know how many people die in traffic accidents caused by aggressive driving?”

“Fewer than the number of authors who die from questioning their girlfriend’s driving abilities,” answered Beckett before Randy could open his mouth. 

“I highly doubt the number is less than one, Kate,” argued Castle. “And I wasn’t asking you.”

“I don’t know, Mr. Castle,” Randy wisely said. Castle twisted around to look into the back seat. 

“You can call me Castle,” offered the writer. “Considering we may not live to see the end of this road trip, time is too short for formalities.”

“Thanks,” replied the doctor. He casually got a firm hold on the handle of his door. 

“Castle, shut up.” 

“I’m sorry. Talking is a nervous habit of mine.” Beckett knew that all too well. “You know, slowing down is the environmentally conscious thing to do.”

“I don’t care.” Beckett concentrated on swerving around a frustratingly slow driver. She suddenly remembered another perk to taking her car. She flipped on her sirens and lights. Immediately, nervous drivers moved to the shoulder and cleared a path for her. Beckett smirked at Castle, who rolled his eyes in response. She’d deal with the consequences of abusing her authority when she had her boys safely back in her arms. “Besides, Rick, Kevin told me that you drove like a bat out of hell on your way back to the Hamptons after the visitation on Friday.”

“That little snitch,” complained Castle. “I thought he liked me best.”

“Of course he likes me best,” countered Beckett. “I’m his partner.”

“But I’m the super-cool, and very rich, famous writer who gives him advance copies of Nikki Heat and Derek Storm.”

“So? You give me those things as well.”

“Well, I give him good advice about important things.”

“Like what? Filling his head with fantastical stories about vampires and Bigfoot?”

“Witches are real,” pouted Castle. Beckett glanced up at her rearview mirror again. Randy was ignoring them as he stared out the side window. “Besides, he dated a girl who pretended to be a vampire. He already believed in that stuff.”

“No, he didn’t.”

“It’s not fair,” complained Castle. “Javier definitely likes you best. I should get Kevin.”

“They’re both mine,” teased Beckett. She stuck her tongue out at her boyfriend. 

“What about on Tuesdays and Thursdays?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“You have Alexis,” pointed out Beckett. “And whatever poor kids we have together.”

“That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me,” joked Castle. 

“But we’re _not_ naming our daughter Xena.”

“You and Javier deserve each other. Neither of you like to have fun.”

“I have lots of fun,” retorted Beckett. “Remember that time we pretended to be on Nebula 9 and I did that thing with my tongue?” She grinned toothily at him. 

Castle turned an appealing shade of red. “Detective Beckett! You’re going to scar the poor doctor.”

“He’s not even listening,” said Beckett. 

“Can you hear us, Dr. Bellefonte?”

“My ears are turned off,” responded the witch. 

“See,” said the two lovers simultaneously. Beckett surprised herself by laughing briefly. Being with Castle, doing something productive, and having a goal in mind made her feel almost right again. Even if Vermont turned out to be a bust, she knew it was the right decision to go. 

Her phone started buzzing. She dug it out of her pocket and glanced at the caller ID. She swiped her thumb across the screen to answer the call, ignoring Castle’s pleas to keep her eyes on the road. “Beckett.”

“Kate, it’s Will,” said the special agent. “We got a hit on Bellefonte.”

“Where?” She accidently jerked the wheel and Castle cried out theatrically. 

“What’s going on?” inquired Sorensen. 

“Castle is just being a baby,” replied Beckett. “What did you find?” She turned on the speaker to her phone so Castle and Randy could hear what the agent had to say, too. 

“Facial recognition made a seventy-percent match to Rayford Bellefonte at a gas station near the interchange to I-91,” said Sorensen. 

“Did he have the kids with him?”

“Not that we could tell from the video feed. You know how high quality the security cameras are at gas stations,” he said sarcastically. “Where are you?”

“I-84,” replied Beckett. “Did you get anything useful?”

“Yes. The car he was driving is a late eighties Buick Regal with New Jersey plates.”

“That car must run on magic,” mumbled Castle. 

“Back in the day, automakers made vehicles to last,” chided Beckett. “What do we know about the car?”

“Well, it was reported stolen yesterday morning by a woman in East Hampton,” said Sorensen. Beckett’s heart leapt excitedly in her chest. “It’s a faded gold color.” He rattled off the plate number to her. 

“Thanks, Will. Have your people check video feeds from around the park and get the local authorities canvassing the entrances to see if anyone remembers seeing that car yesterday.”

“Already started,” he said.

“Yeah, sorry.” Beckett tended to forget that other people knew how to do their jobs, too. 

“Kate, I’ve contacted the SWAT teams in Rutland and Albany. They’re on hold for my go-ahead. The second we can link Bellefonte to Green Mountain, we’ll move in.”

“Good.”

“Things are starting to look a little more promising on this front. I’m going to start heading that way, too. Ms. Rodgers has agreed to stay in Southampton with a few agents just in case the kids somehow manage to make contact. If you need anything before I get there, Special Agent Stowe out of Albany will be your closest contact to the park.”

“Great. Thanks again, Will.” Beckett sincerely meant it. His patience had rewarded them with information they didn’t have an hour ago. She begrudged Captain Gates a little less for calling in the Feds. 

Speaking of her overly helpful captain… less than a minute after hanging up with Special Agent Sorensen, Captain Gates’ name popped up on Beckett’s caller ID. The detective hesitated before answering. 

“How’s the search going?” asked Gates without wasting time with formalities. 

“We’re headed to the Green Mountain National Forest,” said Beckett. “The Feds possibly identified the vehicle that Bellefonte is driving and they’re checking to see if he’s been near the park. Apparently, he’s been there in the past.”

“Any word from the boys?”

“Nothing,” replied Beckett. 

“Well, stay positive. Your partners aren’t pushovers. You’ll find them before it’s too late.”

“I hope so.” Beckett purposefully didn’t ask if there were any new developments in the Valduerez case. She only cared about one search at the moment. 

“Keep me updated,” requested Gates. Beckett grudgingly agreed and then ended the call. It was quiet in the car as the three occupants continued racing towards Vermont.

xXx

Bianca Castova inspected her manicure as she waited for the graying witch to cross the short distance between them. She didn’t look up until he stopped before her and cleared his throat. Her expression remained aloof as she regarded him.

“What do you want, Bianca?” he asked when he couldn’t take her suspicious stare any longer. 

“I want to know what you know, Saul,” she said evenly. She looked disdainfully at his decorative cane.

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” the other witch replied shortly. 

“Mr. Davis, we both know that’s not true.” Bianca folded her hands together and leaned back against the weathered copper slats that made up the back of the park bench. She was rather fond of the Southampton area, she had discovered. If Detective Beckett and her writer-lover decided to permanently take up residence in the area with her adorable partners, it wouldn’t be much of a chore to visit them.

“You called me here, Bianca. Say your piece or I’m finished here.” He tried to be intimidating by standing over her while she remained seated. Unfortunately for him, the white witch was not easily frightened. 

“What business did you have with Rayford Bellefonte?”

“I haven’t spoken with the man,” lied Davis.

“You met with him yesterday,” snapped Bianca. She hated it when people tried to play games with her. It was such a waste of time. 

“How… how did you know that?”

“I know a lot of things, dear Mr. Davis. Tell me, what was your business?”

“Whatever it was, it’s definitely none of yours.”

“Ms. Kennedy informed me that the Dresdens are in the market for regressed children,” said Bianca casually as if she was merely talking about the weather. “She thought you might know something about that.” Dresden was a code named for unidentified witches that were of an interest to the Council, usually because of practicing dark magic. 

“I find it hard to believe that the recently widowed Kennedy would do anything to help you after you stood by and watched her husband be murdered,” said Davis hatefully. “The rest of us aren’t stupid, Bianca. We can recognize a grab for power when we see one.”

“You are quite out of place, Saul,” said Bianca angrily. “You are the one cavorting with a necromancer.”

“Given the choice between being subject to a governing body run by the likes of you or siding with a madman like Bellefonte, I’d throw my lot in with his. The people that Bellefonte works with, and now I work for, have _real_ power.”

“You are a fool.”

“You’re past your prime, Bianca. The world has changed and left you behind.”

“The basic nature of our craft has not changed, it has been corrupted,” said Bianca. “If I were to take dearly departed Winston’s place at the head of the Council, it would only be to restore it to its former glory.”

“Is that all you wanted? To reprimand me for speaking with Bellefonte?”

“I wanted to know if you’re acting as an agent for dangerous and thoroughly corrupt witches. How much are you being paid to act as a go-between?”

“More than you could ever come up with,” sneered Davis. “And even then, I wouldn’t work for you.”

“A pity.” Bianca sighed and looked off to the side, effectively dismissing the other witch. A second later, the corner of her mouth quirked up as Davis sputtered at the rude dismissal. 

“What do you want with them, anyway? I thought you were against retrogression magic.”

“You’ve already made it clear that you won’t help me acquire the boys,” said Bianca. “There’s no reason for me to tell you anything else.”

“Dresden is only interested in one of them,” said Davis. “I’ve been told to dispose of the other to any interested buyer, but I haven’t found anyone worthy yet. For a fee - a very large fee - I might be willing to consider obtaining the other one for you.”

“Name your price,” replied Bianca. 

“I want more than just money. If you do somehow manage to complete your coup against the Council, I want a position on your board.” Davis leaned forward, supporting his weight on his cane. 

“All that for just one of the boys? How much is Dresden offering for the other?”

“A lot.”

“That’s not very specific.”

“Look, I’ve already entered into a contract with him. He’s already made good on some of his promises to me and Bellefonte. Remember Friday? Even talking to you about this is probably breaking some of the contract terms. I’m not going to go behind his back for you.”

“Now you decide to have morals,” complained Bianca. “Fine.” She waved her hand flippantly. “When can you deliver?”

“I’m meeting with Bellefonte again in the morning,” said Davis. “I’m sure he’ll be glad to get rid of them. The Mexican boy has a mouth on him.”

“He’s not Mexican,” said Bianca sweetly. She gracefully stood to her full height and held out her hand. “I’d say it’s been a pleasure doing business with you, but it hasn’t.” Davis tentatively shook her hand. They left the meeting place simultaneously, each heading in an opposite direction. As she walked, Bianca tugged on her lace gloves and smiled deviously to herself. 

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.   
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art: lsmwalls.tumblr.com/image/58939397473


	41. Second Monday Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the search begins...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Forty-One

Despite Beckett’s best efforts and blatant misuse of her police siren, it was still nearly seven in the evening by the time she, Castle, and Randy reached the outskirts of the Green Mountain National Forest. The sun would set in a little over an hour and a half. There was no word yet in regards to sighting the gold Buick in or around the forest, so Beckett continued north on US Route 7 to Rutland where Special Agent Stowe had agreed to meet them. Rutland was one of the bigger cities in Vermont but it was still dwarfed by Manhattan. Castle used his phone to locate a Best Western that had vacancies. It was a far cry from the five-star hotels that the writer was used to frequenting, but Castle didn’t bat an eye at the three-star accommodations. He managed to get three rooms in the same vicinity. He and Beckett claimed the largest room while Randy took the second and the third was reserved for Special Agent Sorensen when he arrived. 

Beckett texted their location to the number Sorensen had provided for his colleague. Agent Stowe responded shortly with his ETA. They had about fifteen minutes to wait. Beckett sat on the foot of one of the queen-sized double beds and let her right leg bounce up and down nervously. Her latest infusion of caffeine was clutched between her chilled hands. Why did hotels always want to blast the air conditioners? She’d turned down the fan but it would still be a few minutes before the room warmed up. 

Castle lay on the opposite bed, taking advantage of the downtime to nurse his aching head. Beckett worried that he was pushing himself too hard after the concussion. In his position, she’d be doing the same thing, so she held her peace. 

Her phone started buzzing. Beckett perked up slightly when she saw the name on her screen. “Hi, Bianca,” she said in greeting.

“Katherine. How are you holding up, dear?”

“We’re in Vermont now,” she replied. “Still no word on Bellefonte, though.”

“Is Randy still with you?”

“Yes, he’s in the other room right now,” replied Beckett. 

“Good,” said Bianca. “One of my sources came through. If you’re going to search the national forest, stick to areas with a dense population of _Vaccinium uliginosum_.” 

“What’s that?”

Bianca made a small sound of confusion. “I always forget that not everyone refers to plants by their proper names,” muttered the white witch. “I believe the common name is Northern Bilberry. It’s somewhat rare in this area and likes temperate regions and coniferous forests.”

“What makes you think we’ll find Bellefonte near _Vacci_ … near bilberry?”

“Rayford has been in contact with other witches since he took the detectives,” replied Bianca. “One of them noticed the flower’s pollen on his clothes.”

Beckett was skeptical of Bianca’s explanation for how she came to the conclusion to look in areas that boasted that particular plant. Still, she wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Thanks, Bianca.”

“If you take Randy with you, have him cast a tracking spell for his brother,” suggested Bianca. “With his ability, he should be able to cast a pretty wide net.”

“And how do I convince the Feds to search in a certain direction based on the word of Bellefonte’s brother?”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something, dear.” Beckett rolled her eyes. “Katherine, I have reason to believe that Rayford hasn’t killed your friends yet.”

“That’s good to hear. How, exactly, do you know that?”

“I don’t _know_. It would not make sense, however, for Nora Bellefonte to exert so much energy permanently retrogressing them, just to have her son kill them off to spite you.”

“Did your ‘source’ happen to ‘notice’ if Rayford still has Kevin and Javier?” Beckett knew that the air quotes were pointless during a phone conversation, but she flexed the index and middle fingers of each hand out of habit. 

“Our conversation was quite short,” replied the witch. 

“What, someone just walked up to you and mentioned that Rayford was palling around, covered in pollen, and you left it at that?”

“Of course not, dear. Apprehending Rayford and his mother is of the utmost importance to the Council. Speaking of, I really must go. If I learn anything else, I will let you know.”

“Bianca--”

“Good night, Katherine.”

Beckett stared incredulously at the “Call Ended” note splashed across the screen of her phone. She was tempted to call the witch back and let her know how much Beckett appreciated her “help.” The detective looked over towards Castle. Her lover was virtually asleep. Instead of jumping into a rant or chucking her phone at the wall, she decided to have the last word in a quieter manner. “I’ll talk to you later,” she said to the call statistics.

Beckett turned off the touch screen and dropped her phone on the bed beside her. She carefully set her coffee aside and flopped backwards to stare up at the ceiling. At least Bianca sounded sincere in her hope that Kevin and Javier were still alive, even if she was being reticent with the whole story. Beckett’s exhaustion cut through the effects of her caffeine. It’d been what, thirty-six hours since she’d gotten any real sleep? 

Despite that, she found she couldn’t slow her mind down enough to find rest. She sat up again and reached for her drink. She took a long, slow sip of the tepid brown liquid. Beckett stared blankly at the wall, imagining all the ways she would make Rayford Bellefonte sorry for crossing her. 

An urgent knocking on her door nearly caused Beckett to spill her coffee on the floor. Castle shot up from his prone position and groaned as his head throbbed. Beckett hurried to the door and yanked it open. A stranger stood on the other side, holding out an FBI badge and ID card. She barely registered Stowe as the agent’s name before he snapped the pocket case shut. “Detective Beckett?”

“Yes,” she replied. “Special Agent Stowe?”

“Guilty as charged. Is Sorensen here yet?”

“No.” 

Castle moved to stand next to his girlfriend. “If you don’t mind, Agent Stowe, can I have a better look at your ID? We’ve had trouble with fake agents already.”

“Of course, Mr. Castle,” said the energetic man. He had fiery red hair that rivaled Martha’s and a wide set to his shoulders that made him look rather imposing. He stood as tall as Castle and was more built. The agent handed the leather case to the writer. Castle took his time inspecting the badge and ID. Beckett didn’t know how he’d determine the legitimacy of it, but she didn’t stop him from trying.

“Detective Beckett, we’ve had a breakthrough in the case,” said Stowe. “Local authorities found the Buick Regal.”

“Was Bellefonte with it?”

“Yes, he was positively identified.”

Beckett squashed down her girlish squeal of delight. “Castle, get Randy.” It was time for business. “Tell me everything, Agent Stowe.” 

“Based on the APB, a state trooper recognized the car in the parking lot of a small convenience store. He called for backup and then staked out the vehicle. About ten minutes later, Bellefonte himself emerged from the store. The trooper confronted him.”

“Did he have the kids with him?”

“No, ma’am. It’s a good thing, too. He tried to resist arrest. The trooper had to shoot at him.”

“Is he alive?” Agent Stowe had said they confronted Bellefonte, not killed him. 

“Yes,” said Stowe. He shifted awkwardly. The minute gesture caused Beckett to narrow her eyes suspiciously. “He was able to evade arrest and escape in the car.”

Seriously, was Beckett the only competent investigator working on this kidnapping? “Why didn’t he disable the car while waiting for him to come out of the store?” She was proud of herself for not leaking annoyance into her voice. 

“I… well, you’ll have to ask the trooper that,” deflected the agent. 

“Did he at least see in which direction Bellefonte went?”

“South on Route 7.”

“That’s in the direction of the forest.” Castle had returned with Randy. The doctor looked nervous as he regarded the new FBI agent. Castle must have informed Randy that the local authorities had encountered his brother. 

“It is,” said Stowe. “We’ve already sent out an advance unit to try to pick up his trail while we wait for SWAT to arrive. I think we have enough of a case now to warrant doing a sweep of the national forest.”

“I want to be a part of the advance party,” stated Beckett. She glanced around the tiny hotel room for her purse. 

“You’d be better off staying here and getting some sleep. Sorensen warned me that you’re only running on coffee.” 

“Randy might be able to talk him down if we locate him,” argued Beckett. She pointed at the doctor. “Randy Bellefonte, Rayford’s brother.”

“You’re the brother?” asked the agent. 

“Yes, sir,” replied Randy. “Rayford is very dangerous but I might be able to get him to stand down.” Beckett knew that Randy didn’t have much to “say” to his brother. Still, his supposed magical ability would be a better match for Rayford’s skills than SWAT’s bullets and flash bangs.

“It’s worth a shot,” agreed the agent. “I’ll have one of my men drive you up to the team. Detective Beckett, if you’re not going to sleep, Agent Sorensen did suggest that I include you in the search party.”

“What about my mother?” asked Randy. “Was there an older woman with him?”

“No, he was alone.” 

Randy frowned at this information. “Detective Beckett, we need to find your friends quickly. It bothers me more that they’d be alone with her than with Rayford.” Beckett felt a chill run down her spine at his words. She nodded quickly in understanding. 

“What are we waiting for?” asked Castle. “Let’s find the kids.”

“Sir, my understanding is that you are recovering from a bad concussion. This is not the kind of mission you should be going on.”

“A minor headache isn’t going to stop me from bringing home my boys,” stated Castle. He straightened his shoulders and stared down the agent as best he could. 

“Castle goes with me.” Beckett shot the agent a challenging look before throwing her jacket over her shoulder and walking purposefully towards the door.

xXx

The advance party was long gone by the time Agent Stowe parked his black SUV and his passengers spilled out of the passenger doors. Even so, the ranger’s station was still teeming with personnel. Beckett made sure to display her badge prominently as she stomped up the polished wood steps to the slightly ajar door. It was well past sunset and closing time for those only making day trips into the park. She wasn’t surprised that all of the available rangers had stuck around to assist with the search and rescue. They seemed like an affable group of people who were genuinely concerned about the well-being of the missing children.

Agent Stowe ended a call on his cell-phone and slipped it into the breast pocket of his suit coat. “Sorensen’s ETA is thirty minutes. Rutland SWAT and Fire Department is out fifteen and Albany SWAT will take another forty minutes to get here.”

The remaining gathered FBI agents, Vermont state troopers, and park rangers all nodded. Castle raised his hand but didn’t wait for Stowe to call on him before starting to speak. “Shouldn’t we break into groups so we can cover more ground in a short time? The rangers must know the area well. They can lead us towards the most likely hiding spots.”

A young man with reddish-blonde hair and a thick splattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose and cheeks stepped forward. He was dressed in a park ranger uniform. “We each know the forest like the back of our hands. That’s a good idea.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” asked Beckett. 

“I’m not comfortable with too small of groups,” said Agent Stowe. “We should wait for our support to arrive.”

“Every second you waste here is one more lost that could be the difference between finding the kids alive or dead,” argued Castle. 

“They could already be dead, Mr. Castle,” said Agent Stowe frankly. “By your own account, this Bellefonte character is armed and dangerous. I’m not sending my people into an unknown situation that could result in further loss of life.”

Beckett shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket to hide her fisted hands. She knew the responsibility that Stowe felt for his men. She was burdened with the same responsibility to the detectives and officers under her command. She’d had to make the tough call to wait before taking action, knowing it was costing the victim precious time. Now, she better understood the desperation felt by the loved ones who were stymied by protocol. She didn’t want any of the brave people in that station to be hurt, but more than that, she wanted her partners back. 

While they waited, Stowe and his agents set to divvying up the groups and plotting the most promising routes through the park. Based on the fact that Rayford had been coming and going from the park in the Buick, they started with areas that were accessible to vehicles. Beckett offered up the suggestion to focus on areas with high concentrations of bilberry. 

“What makes you think he’ll be in an area with that particular plant?” asked Stowe. 

Beckett’s exhausted mind went blank as she tried to come up with a rational explanation for her random bit of specific information. Fortunately, she was in love with a man who made up stories for a living. 

“Randy here told us that his brother is inordinately fond of that plant,” said Castle. “He’d go on and on about it after returning from his short trips into the park.” All eyes turned towards the surprised doctor. 

Randy took a second to wipe the stunned look off his face and cleared his throat. “Um, yeah. He said he liked the fruit they produce.”

“It is pretty sweet when ripe,” agreed the freckled ranger who’d spoken up earlier. “It likes pine forests and other cone-bearing trees.” Beckett was encouraged at the ranger’s knowledge of the plant. His description seemed to match what Bianca had told her. 

“Where are these forests?” asked Stowe. He crossed his arms as he scanned the large map framed on the wall. The helpful ranger launched into a lengthy discourse on the various ecosystems within the forest and where coniferous trees were most common. His colleagues corroborated his descriptions and the search routes were modified slightly to include more roads that cut through promising areas. 

Beckett, Randy, and Castle slipped away from the group. “Where did you hear about bilberry?” asked Randy in a low voice. 

“Bianca mentioned it to me,” said Beckett. “She said that she spoke with someone who’d recently been in contact with Rayford. Apparently he had pollen from the flower on him.”

Randy frowned. “Bianca?”

“Why? What’s wrong?” asked Beckett. 

“Nothing,” replied Randy with a shake of his head. “I didn’t realize her social network intersected with Rayford’s.”

“Who knows how she gets her information,” said Beckett dismissively. “If she’s correct, that’s good enough for me right now.”

“So what happens if we do encounter your family?” asked Castle. “I’m definitely hoping that they’ll be off somewhere doing whatever it is necromancers and the undead do in the woods when we stumble upon their hidey-hole.”

“That would be the best scenario,” agreed Randy. He sighed. “Detective Beckett, I don’t want you to put more faith in my abilities than I deserve. A week and a half ago, I hadn’t touched magic in years. Bianca’s been working with me to ‘exercise my magical muscles’ but I have a long way to go.”

Why was that not surprising? Beckett mentally rolled her eyes. That woman… “It shouldn’t come to that. If we can take them by surprise, they won’t have invisible bullet-proof shields to protect them.”

Their conversation ended at the sound of more vehicles pulling up in front of the station. Beckett caught the soft whine of a dog as the newcomers trooped up the steps and spilled into the brightly lit building. It was the SWAT team from Rutland, followed by a group of firefighters. Bringing up the rear of the group was Special Agent Will Sorensen. He’d made up some time during the last bit of his drive. 

Castle reached down to pet one of the two enthusiastically panting German Shepherds. He snatched his hand back when the outwardly friendly appearing dog growled lowly in the back of its throat and the animal’s handler shot him a look. With a wounded expression, Castle wisely moved a safe distance away. Beckett shook her head. 

As lead investigator, Sorensen smoothly took over control of the operation after being briefed by Agent Stowe. He cleared his throat and the room fell quiet as everyone turned to watch him situate his laptop next to his tiny portable projector. One of the rangers helpfully pulled a couple framed paintings off of the wall to leave a smooth, white surface onto which Sorensen could project his computer monitor. 

“All right, listen up,” said the FBI agent. He tapped on the keyboard of his computer and a picture of Rayford Bellefonte appeared on the wall. “This is Rayford Bellefonte. He is suspected of kidnapping two children from the home of Mr. Richard Castle a little after zero-eight-hundred hours, yesterday morning. Besides kidnapping, Bellefonte is also the prime suspect in a murder investigation run by the NYPD. Detective Kate Beckett is the lead homicide detective on that case.” Sorensen motioned for Beckett to take over his presentation. 

Beckett anxiously tightened her ponytail as she walked around the attentive group to stand just to the left of Rayford’s enlarged face. She resisted the urge to shudder in disgust as she glanced at it. “Bellefonte should be considered armed and dangerous,” said Beckett. She glanced over at Randy and Castle hesitantly. “He’s exhibited signs of mental illness and delusions of grandeur. You’re advised to not make direct contact with him unless you have plenty of backup.” She was making this up as she went, but she wanted to give the volunteers some kind of warning even if she didn’t come right and say that he liked to suffocate people using magic. 

Sorensen nodded in agreement with her last statement. “Bellefonte was last seen at a convenience store just outside of Manchester. He was engaged by a Vermont state trooper but evaded arrest.” Sorensen changed to a grainy screenshot from the gas station camera that had caught the witch purchasing gasoline the day before. “He drives a brownish-gold 1987 Buick Regal with New Jersey plates. The car was reported stolen just before the kidnapping occurred.” Sorensen flipped through a couple more low-quality images from the security feed. “He’s assumed to be with his mother, Nora Bellefonte. She is also thought to be armed and dangerous.”

“What about the kids?” asked one of the SWAT officers. He shifted his weight idly from one foot to the other. Beckett was somewhat glad she wasn’t required to wear the full riot gear. Her muscles were starting to protest her lack of sleep and real sustenance but her wired mind still wouldn’t think about shutting down. 

“Detective Beckett?”

Beckett smiled weakly at the agent before swallowing thickly. At Castle’s encouraging nod, she recounted the story that they’d fabricated for Sorensen back at the house. As she spoke, Sorensen pulled up enlarged pictures of both of the missing boys. She had to choke down an exhausted sob at the sight of their wide grins, tinged purple from the cold, as they hammed it up for the camera on Castle’s cruiser yacht. The Fourth of July seemed like it had been weeks ago, not just a handful of days. Castle must have passed the photographs from his phone on to the FBI agent while she was out futilely searching Southampton. 

“Javier Ochoa,” said Sorensen, pointing at Beckett’s older partner. “Hispanic, brown hair and brown eyes.” He next pointed at the Irishman. “Kevin Raley, Caucasian. Blonde hair, blue eyes.”

“Those names sound familiar,” said one of the female troopers. Most of the group followed her gaze to where Castle was awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Um, Raley and Ochoa are characters in my Nikki Heat books,” said the author. “The boys are distant cousins of mine and the inspiration for the characters.” Beckett couldn’t help mentally cringing at the sheer insanity of this situation. Castle’s statement was both true and untrue in equal measures. Fortunately, no one questioned the writer’s off the cuff explanation. 

Briefing done, Sorensen promised to forward the electronic images to each person’s phone or tablet for their use in the field. They finalized each search party and their respective routes, leaving a few FBI agents and rangers to join with the Albany SWAT team once they arrived. Beckett prodded Randy to pick a route that seemed the most likely to lead to his brother, then made sure that she, Castle, and the doctor were on that team. 

Her exhilaration at finally starting a real search for the missing boys burned away the fatigue in her muscles and the worry in her mind. She concentrated solely on keeping a sharp lookout for any sign of her partners as the pair of Jeeps assigned to her group sped through the national forest. 

Besides herself and her companions, Beckett’s group consisted of the helpful red-haired ranger, one of his colleagues, and four Rutland SWAT members. The helpful ranger’s name turned out to be Patrick Linn. He kept up a steady monologue of forest trivia as he drove the lead Jeep down a wide dirt road that had branched off of the main paved road about five miles back. His inability to endure any kind of prolonged silence both helped Beckett relax a bit and threatened to drive her crazy. Castle seemed to be leaning towards the latter, though his annoyance may have also been due to the return of his greenish pallor. She worried that he wouldn’t last very long on the search. 

Finally, the lights of the second Jeep flashed to indicate that it was time to slow down and search on foot. Patrick pulled over on the shoulder and cheerfully informed them that the tall trees standing proudly a few yards away were prime examples of northern pine trees. Castle pinched the bridge of his nose. 

Beckett had to admit she was slightly relieved when Patrick was assigned to stay with his vehicle and keep pace with those searching the woods on foot. The rest of the group split in two with each half fanning out on one side of the road. Beckett wished she’d had the forethought to wear hiking gear instead of her leather boots with the three inch heels. Actually, she hadn’t thought ahead at all when springing from Castle’s summer home to drive up to Vermont. Sorensen had pulled her aside just before the search parties dispersed to inform her that Martha had packed a small overnight kit with toiletries and changes of clothes for Castle, Beckett, and the boys. Thank goodness someone was thinking ahead. 

They kept up a slow, steady pace as they scoured the area for any sign that their kidnapper and his victims had passed this way. Hours passed steadily, broken only by a series of false alerts and the necessary regrouping every thirty minutes. Beckett worried for her lover. Castle had only managed to stay on his feet for about an hour before he was forced to take a break and ride with Patrick until his headache eased again and he didn’t feel quite as nauseous. 

Beckett was audibly cursing her footwear when the sun started to rise behind the army of trees. The thermoses of hot coffee had long ago gone cold and then disappeared completely. Her eyes stung from squinting into the darkness with only her high-powered flashlight to guide her way. When she wiped her hand over her face, she could feel the grime and sweat plastered to her skin. She sacrificed a few drops from her water bottle and the corner of her sleeve to wipe at the dirt. 

“Break!” 

Beckett let out a dejected sigh at the command to regroup at the Jeep again. Randy offered her a hand as she forced herself over the short retaining wall at the edge of the shoulder. He squeezed her fingers in a small act of encouragement before wandering over to the Jeep where Castle and Patrick had mysteriously conjured up a box of bagels and new thermoses of hot coffee. The young ranger’s enthusiasm had dwindled as the night progressed. Now he communicated his tiredness with wide yawns and slow blinks. 

The leader of the SWAT team ended a phone call and joined the group gathered around the food. “Our relief will be here soon. We’ll break for four hours to get some sleep and then start up again.”

Beckett wasn’t interested in taking a break. She peered towards the low-hanging sun and mentally calculated that forty-seven hours had passed since Kevin and Javier were stolen from them. This was the point where investigators started preparing devastated parents for the horrible possibility that their child might not be returning to them. 

Beckett pushed herself into the seat next to Castle to give her aching feet a break. She rested her head on his shoulder while he wrapped an arm around hers. “Rick, why haven’t we found them yet?”

“We’re just not far enough along the trail yet,” replied the writer. “Did you get a bagel?”

“I want a bearclaw,” she said petulantly. Castle chuckled. 

“At the next café we pass, I’ll buy you a dozen,” he promised. “In the meantime, there are some pretty tasty apple-cinnamon bagels in the box.”

“Where’d the food come from?” asked Beckett. 

“Some of the husbands and wives of our dedicated rangers swung by with the food and drinks,” he answered. “They’re also spreading the news to the visitors and campers now that the general population is awake now.”

“I’m worried about too many people risking actually finding Bellefonte,” said Beckett in a low voice. Her eyes tracked to where a haggard-looking Randy was deep in conversation with one of the SWAT officers. The doctor was immensely frustrated at his lack of ability to get a trace on his brother or mother. She’d tried to convince him that he was doing the best that he could but her words fell on deaf ears. 

Two new Jeeps filled with fresh searchers pulled up behind Patrick’s. Sorensen was one of those sent to relieve Beckett’s group. Apparently the breaks were being taken in shifts. The FBI agent walked up to stand beside the detective and writer. “How are you holding up?” Sorensen asked. 

“I just keep telling myself that every minute, I get closer to finding them,” said Beckett. She pulled out her hair tie and redid her greasy ponytail. She really needed to take a shower. 

“That’s true,” said the agent. “Back at the main station, there are some cots set up and a nice spread of finger foods. Of course, if you’d rather head back to your hotel, that can be arranged, too.”

“I’m fine,” said Beckett quickly. 

“Kate, I’m putting my foot down,” said Sorensen sternly. He briefly directed his hard look at Castle, as well. “How would you feel if you missed a vital clue because you were too tired? Get some sleep and real food.”

“Will--”

“Listen, I know how you feel,” said the agent, cutting her off. “But you’re smarter than this. You know the risks of trying to work in your condition. If not yourself, think about Mr. Castle and your doctor friend.”

“How can I justify not looking for them without pause?”

“Easily. If it makes you feel better, you can blame me. I’m ordering you to go back to the station and lie down.”

It was a testament to how exhausted Beckett truly was that she couldn’t muster the energy to argue without the risk of breaking down in tears. Castle tightened his sideways hug. “Come on Kate, it’s just a couple hours. I don’t want to stop either, but Sorensen is right. What good will we be to the boys if we’re too tired to even stand up?”

With a breaking heart, Beckett numbly agreed. Sorensen patted her knee before walking off to coordinate with the rest of the searchers. Randy broke away from his conversation to join Beckett and Castle. “Maybe this is for the best,” said the doctor. “I don’t think we’re going to find Rayford in this part of the forest.”

Randy climbed into the front with Patrick. This time the ranger followed the other Jeep back to the main station. After parking in the midst of the mass of vehicles, the young man eagerly sought out one of the cots in a dark, quiet side room. Castle, Beckett, and Randy followed him more slowly. 

The lovers pushed two cots together and curled up in each other’s arms. Castle rhythmically stroked Beckett’s tangled hair until she lost the battle with sleep. Her dreams were anything but peaceful. 

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.   
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art: lsmwalls.tumblr.com/image/58939397473


	42. Second Tuesday Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Beckett and Castle find the Bellefonte hideaway...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Forty-Two

Castle felt like a new, albeit not very improved, man when he met Kate on the long front porch of the ranger station. He’d made good use of the bag his mother had graciously sent with Agent Sorensen, and the tiny locker room outfitted with a trio of tiny shower stalls. The short nap, shower, and food had him feeling like he could walk around the woods for another few hours. For the first time since waking up in the ambulance Sunday morning, his headache was little more than a dull ache that flared up if he spent too much time without his sunglasses. 

Kate had likewise showered and eaten, though she was starting to take after their younger friend when it came to eating like a bird. Castle surreptitiously snuck a couple of homemade oatmeal raisin cookies into his pocket to see if he could goad his girlfriend into eating one later on. 

“Hey Castle.” Kate’s voice was slightly rough but her eyes were bright. “What do you think are the chances of us being able to sneak away by ourselves in one of those Jeeps?”

“Not very good.”

Castle clutched his chest with one hand as he and Beckett spun around to look guiltily at Agent Stowe. The FBI agent shook his head mirthfully as he regarded them. “Agent Stowe… any word yet on the search?”

“Nothing yet,” replied the agent. Castle checked his watch. It was almost noon. More time had passed than he realized. Regret flooded him as he imagined what suffering his boys might have endured while he and Kate were relaxing at the station. He tried to remind himself that the two full-size adults needed their strength and energy to be of any good to the missing detectives. 

Stowe continued. “You might find your chances of joining another search party fairly good, however. A group is setting out to relieve the team out near Somerset Road.”

“Thanks,” said Kate. She slipped her hand into Castle’s. “Have you seen Dr. Bellefonte?”

“Yes, he’s on his phone around the back.” Stowe pointed them towards the leader of the search party set to leave in about ten minutes. The couple thanked him and then started around the side of the station to find Randy. The witch was just ending his call when the pair approached him. His face was set in a deep frown, prompting Castle to silently wonder what the unknown caller was saying. 

“Hello, Castle. Miss Kate.”

“You ready to trudge through the woods some more?” asked Castle. 

“Am I ever,” replied the older man sardonically. He ran his hand through his thick hair. “That was Bianca. She’s concerned that we haven’t found the boys yet.”

“Then why isn’t she out here helping?” Kate sounded a bit angry at the implication that she wasn’t doing a good enough job finding her partners. 

Randy shrugged. “She’s kind of stuck in Southampton.” Oh, yeah. Castle had forgotten that the white witch had hitched a ride with Kate. Kate, on the other hand, seemed less than convinced that Bianca couldn’t find some way to catch up to them if she was that concerned about the pace of their search. 

“So, you talk to our friendly neighborhood white witch a lot?” asked Castle casually. 

“It seems like it,” replied Randy. “She calls me nearly every day. Like I said, she’s been helping me get back into the game.”

“You were pretty happy to be out of it when we first met you,” said Castle. Just like he worried about the inordinate amount of attention the strange woman paid Kate and the boys, Castle wondered at how forcefully Bianca had insinuated herself in Randy’s life. That woman’s ulterior motives had ulterior motives and Castle wasn’t used to being unable to get a gauge on other people. 

“Yeah, and look how useless I’ve been because of that,” countered Randy. “I don’t know… maybe if I hadn’t distanced myself from the community after the divorce, Sera would still be alive and my mother and brother wouldn’t be on everyone’s most-wanted list.”

“Or, you could be just as bat-shit crazy as the rest of your family,” said Castle. Randy looked a little taken aback at Castle’s lack of tact, but shook it off and grinned self-deprecatingly.

“There’s that, I suppose.”

“Come on,” said Kate. “Our group’s going to leave without us if we don’t hurry.” She tugged on Castle’s hand and gave Randy an encouraging smile. Castle knew that his girlfriend was deeply grateful to the younger Bellefonte brother for just acting like he cared about their predicament. They’d be completely lost without at least one magic user in their corner. 

As they bounced along yet another endless dirt road, Castle found that he missed Forest Ranger Patrick’s obsessive download of every bit of plant trivia known to man. Now that his head didn’t ache so fiercely, he started to wonder about the tall trees that lined their route. Were these the type of needle leaf trees that shed their needles in the fall or were they truly evergreens? And those deciduous trees over there - would their leaves turn an appealing shade of orange or red in a couple of months or just a drab brown color?

They finally reached the party they were to relieve after a forty minute drive. They climbed out of the Jeep and stretched their stiff muscles before ambling over to the waiting SWAT officers and forest rangers. Castle absently noted the wide wooden sign for the national forest that directed traffic towards a campsite five miles up the road. Across the street, where a narrower dirt lane T’d off to the north, a smaller, rusted metal sign warned visitors to avoid the private property ahead.

Randy spun around in a slow circle, his brow furrowed as he inspected the intersection. Castle felt hope rising in his chest as he watched the witch casually slide his hands into his pockets and meander towards the deep ditch at the side of the main road. The writer tugged on Kate’s hand and dipped his head in Randy’s direction. Kate looked at her boyfriend questioningly after observing the doctor’s strange behavior. 

The detective turned back to the departing SWAT team. “Hey, did you guys look down there?”

“Yes, ma’am,” replied one of the men. “There’s signs of a small struggle at the bottom of the ravine. We called for a K-9 unit to join you as soon as possible.”

“Anything to indicate that it was Rayford Bellefonte?”

“No, sorry miss.”

Castle wasn’t discouraged. He raised an eyebrow inquisitively as Randy made his way back over to them. The doctor kept his voice low so only the writer and detective could hear him. “Someone used magic around here. I can barely sense its residual energy.”

“Rayford?”

Randy shrugged, then looked at Kate hopefully. “Maybe? I think we should turn up that road and see what we find.” The doctor pointed towards the private lane. It sounded like a good idea to Castle. “Any chance we can shake our friends?”

“Let me handle it,” said Kate. She strode purposefully towards the leader of their party. “Hi, Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD. What’s our next step?”

“Well, Detective Beckett, we’re waiting for the K-9 unit to arrive so they can hopefully find a trail from the ditch to wherever those involved in the altercation ended up.”

“I want to explore that way in the meantime,” she said matter-of-factly. She pointed to the private lane. “Do you have a walkie-talkie I can use?”

“Sure, but it’d be better if you didn’t go alone,” replied the SWAT officer. He looked a bit uncomfortable in his black riot gear. Castle was starting to sweat and he’d only been out of the conditioned interior of the Jeep for a few minutes. The July sun was definitely bearing down on them with all of its might. 

“Mr. Castle and Dr. Bellefonte will go with me. We won’t go far, I promise.” Kate smiled sweetly at the man with a look that always made Castle’s knees melt. Though he still looked hesitant, the officer finally agreed. He retrieved a high-tech walkie-talkie from his supplies and turned it on. 

“We’re using channel three. Stay away from clear danger and report in regularly,” he instructed. Kate nodded. She clipped the device to her belt. “I’ll give you a shout when the dogs arrive.” Kate thanked him and returned to her friends. 

“Lead the way, Dr. Bellefonte,” said Castle. The doctor, following an invisible trail of magical residue, set out on direct route up the shaded road. Castle could tell that Kate was fighting to keep walking instead of breaking into a run. Castle wished he was in better health so he could jog with her. His heart was beating expectantly. He let himself imagine the reunion with his sweet-faced toddler and opinionated kindergartener. He’d hug them both until they protested and then he’d hug them some more. 

A mile and a half later, they found the first hidden driveway. It was little more than parallel ruts with grass growing in the middle. Castle’s heart skipped a beat when he spotted the tiny footprint in the soft earth at the end of the drive. “Kate. Kate!”

“What, Castle? Keep your voice down,” chided Beckett. She moved to his side. 

“Look,” said the writer, ignoring her reprimand. Kate squatted down to inspect the faint depression. 

“It looks a little big for one of our boys,” she said slowly. “Still, what is a child doing playing barefoot at the edge of the road?” She narrowed her eyes as she peered up the drive. It twisted a bit, quickly disappearing from view between the thick masses of trees. 

“Let’s go,” said Randy in a strained voice. He started up the drive with tensely set shoulders. Kate and Castle hurried to catch up with him. Kate pulled out her service weapon and chambered a bullet. Castle wished for his “Writer” vest and then realized it would probably do him no good in a magic fight. 

Kate had probably loaded her weapon a little prematurely. It look them thirty minutes to make it to the head of the drive. Castle drank from his water bottle a little too greedily as they stepped into the clearing around a ramshackle hut. It could hardly contain more than a few rooms, including the narrow lean-top at the back of the structure. 

The drive curled around the front of the house. Castle hurried to catch up with Kate and Randy. He nearly walked into the back of Randy, who’d stopped suddenly and was staring up at the dilapidated house. Castle followed his gaze and nearly choked on the water still in his mouth. 

Sitting on the collapsing porch in a wooden rocking chair was Nora Bellefonte. She stared at them with dead eyes as she slowly rocked back and forth. Castle’s eyes watered as he tried not to cough convulsively on the liquid stuck in his windpipe. Kate clutched his arm tightly with one hand and aimed her gun with the other. 

Randy held up both of his hands and slowly stepped towards the shack. Kate and Castle stayed at the far edge of the drive. Needing a break from the horrible sight of the undead woman, Castle scanned their immediate area. It concerned him that there was no brownish-gold Buick parked at the end of the drive. Where was Rayford? A dozen yards away were two piles of freshly turned earth. They reminded the writer of shallow graves. Fear crept up from his gut to replace the hope in his chest. Were they too late after all?

“Randall,” said Nora with a sandpaper voice. Her rasp made chills run down Castle’s spine. The doctor froze mid-step and nervously met the undead witch’s eyes. Castle imagined that Nora could cast devastating spells with just her creepy stare. 

“Mama,” he said hesitantly. “Why are you here?”

“Why are _you_ here? Have you come to play the part of the prodigal son?”

“You use dark magic, Mama. You know I can’t abide by that.”

“A pity,” said the old woman. She swept her hand out without warning. Randy barely ducked before the pulse of energy barreled past him. Kate and Castle hit the dirt behind him. Castle could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

“Why are you doing this? You used to love life and prosperity and free will.” Randy dared to take another step towards the porch. Nora never wavered from her steady rocking.

“I love _power_ ,” sneered the undead witch. Her black eyes flashed dangerously. Castle wondered if anyone would blame him for wetting himself a bit. “I gave _you_ power and you squandered it. You are my greatest regret. What greater curse can a mother get than a disloyal son?”

Randy took a deep breath. Castle could imagine that no matter how incredibly insane one’s parent was, it still hurt to earn their disapproval. “Where is Rayford?”

“I will not trade words with a common betrayer.” Nora finally broke her stare to turn her nose up at her younger son. 

“Where’s Rayford, Mama?”

“Be gone!” Nora stood up with a deceptive amount of agility. The front of her dress gaped open and Castle could see the autopsy stitches holding her together. His nausea returned with a vengeance.

“I’m not leaving,” said Randy tenaciously. “I know you hate me. Just tell me where Rayford and the detectives are and you’ll never have to see me again.”

“You’re too late,” crowed the hag. She cackled evilly. “Rayford killed them just to spite your little girlfriend. Does your treachery know no limits? You take up with the bitch who murdered your mother?”

“I know they’re not dead,” said Randy calmly. “Just give them to us and you can leave here, unhindered.” Castle felt Kate tense beside him. The detective was not interested in letting the witch go. Randy wasn’t in a position to be making her promises, even if he was negotiating for Javier and Kevin. 

“I like it here,” said Nora. She sat back down like a queen perching on a gilded throne. “Forget your foolish desire for honor and regard. I will teach you the better way.”

“This isn’t the better way, Mama. People are hurting. Rayford is hurting. Sera is hurting.” Randy made it to the bottom of the porch steps and looked up pleadingly at his mother. Castle remembered Bianca’s warning that Nora had lost all of her humanity in death and she was nothing more than a dark spirit in a dead body now. 

“Sera betrayed us, too. You defiled her with your disloyalty.”

“Let me help you, Mama. I can make it go away,” promised Randy. He inched up the steps until he could almost reach out and touch the old woman. 

“Return to me,” said Nora. “You were meant to be my masterpiece, Randall. No other witch has ever been born with the natural ability you possess. I gave you that.” The two looked at each other for a long while, neither moving a muscle until the doctor spoke again. 

“I know you did. I’m grateful,” said Randy. He smiled hopefully at his mother. Kate pushed herself to her knees in order to keep her jaw off the ground. Their only ally was turning on them before their very eyes. Castle couldn’t remember ever feeling as helpless as he did now, watching the doctor drop to one knee before the rocking chair. 

“Yes, I know you are,” said Nora. Her ashen face didn’t look exactly fond as she regarded her younger son. “I forgive you, my son.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” muttered Kate. She checked on her handgun and lifted it with a shaky hand. At her belt, the walkie-talkie came to life, asking for their status. Castle wondered how to explain that their supposed ally was actually the worst kind of snitch and had lead them directly into the mouth of the dragon?

Nora cupped her son’s upturned face with one of her wrinkled, dirty hands. “We will do great things together, _mijo_.” 

“I have much to learn, still,” said Randy. He placed his larger hand over hers where it rested on his cheek. Gently, he curled his fingers around her palm so that he could pull it away from his face and clasp it tightly between both of his. “I’m so sorry, Mama.”

Nora Bellefonte screamed.

Castle clapped his hands over his ears as the siren-like sound assaulted him. He didn’t know how the woman’s vocal chords hadn’t exploded. He could barely watch as the dead witch’s body sparked uncontrollably and flashes of blinding light surrounded her convulsing form. Castle thought he could see her skeleton jumping out of her wrinkled skin. Her face morphed into a rotting skull, giving Castle his first look at what had been tormenting his boys in their dreams. 

The agonizing screams seemed to last for an hour, though in reality only a few minutes passed. She stopped suddenly, her whole body going rigid. A black, acrid smoke started to pour from her pores like she was a leaking sieve. The ghost of her evil spirit hit the soffit of the porch roof and sped outwards, seeking refuge from the flames that were now leaping from the corpse’s mouth and eye sockets. Once the fire engulfed her body, Randy finally jumped back and nearly stumbled as he moved out of the fire’s reach. 

In minutes, the woman who had been Nora Bellefonte was nothing more than a pile of ashes and bone fragments in a neat pile on her front porch. Randy coughed on the dust caught in the slight breeze. He came down the steps and dropped to his seat on the lowest tread. Castle and Kate hurried over to him, covering their own faces until the dust settled. Castle felt silly for ever doubting the older man. Randy had never given them reason to distrust him before, yet they had assumed the worst of him without hesitation. 

“Randy, are you okay?” Kate patted his upper back. 

“That was harder than I thought it would be,” he said in a rough voice. 

“I don’t doubt it,” said Castle. “She was your mother, after all.”

“Even though I know it wasn’t really her in that body anymore, I couldn’t help thinking about the way she used to be. When I was small and she had started on her quest for power, she wasn’t completely evil. She still loved Rayford and I, in her own way.” Randy rubbed his hands over his face. “It’s not just that - at her worst, she still cared, you know? I believe she genuinely wanted to help Serafina. She sacrificed herself to make sure the detectives survived her initial curse.”

“What do you mean?” asked Kate. Castle mirrored her frown. 

Randy laughed mirthlessly. “I think that the curse directly lead to her stroke,” he said. “That spell should have killed your friends. It took too much magic to permanently regress them by thirty years. Serafina at least had built up a tolerance to spellwork. Nora had to have put some of her own life force into the spell to sustain them while their bodies adjusted to the change. That was the part of the spell I couldn’t figure out until just a few days ago.”

Castle couldn’t make himself feel appreciative to the witch for what she’s given of herself to give the boys a fighting chance against her awful curse. If she hadn’t be depraved enough to cast the spell in the first place, she wouldn’t have had to sacrifice anything.

“Is that why Rayford blames me for her death?” asked Kate. 

“Probably,” said Randy. “Without access to her herbs and magic, Nora couldn’t recover from the spell and it led to the stroke. Being in the hospital left her vulnerable to the Council.”

“This is all really fascinating,” said Castle, “but we should find the boys before Rayford comes back.”

“Yeah,” said Randy in a small voice. Castle should be sympathetic. The poor man had just killed his own mother for the second time. Still, she was pure evil. Castle wasn’t sad that she was gone.

“Why don’t you stay out here and watch for either backup or your brother,” said Kate in a soothing voice. She handed the walkie-talkie to the doctor. “They’re on their way with the dogs.” Randy nodded tiredly. He did follow them into the dim house to locate a temporary urn for his mother’s ashes. 

Castle and Kate had time to search the tiny foyer by the time SWAT arrived. A few minutes were wasted arguing futilely against being forbidden from the shack while SWAT made sure the building was clear. Thankfully, it only took a few minutes after that for the stealthy officers to sweep the house and give Castle the signal that it was safe for him to enter. He immediately moved to join Kate in the outdated living room. 

“It’s empty, Castle,” said Kate in a broken voice. “There’s no one else here.” She was transfixed by the dog kennel pushed into one corner of the room. Castle could all too easily imagine his little boys locked in the cage, waiting helplessly for whatever torture Rayford had in mind. 

“Hey, one of the dogs picked up a scent outside. Those dirt piles may contain human remains,” said one of the helpful SWAT members. Kate bit her lower lip and wiped a fat tear from her cheek. With inhuman strength, she mustered her courage and turned to accompany the gently frowning officer back outside where she would likely have to identify the tiny cursed bodies of her partners. 

Castle couldn’t do it. He wasn’t ready for the end of this story - at least not if it was going to end like this. He let Kate go outside by herself. He stayed in the living room and tried to reconcile how this could have happened. He was Richard Castle. He didn’t lose like this. He’d found Alexis in Paris. He’d outwitted 3XK. He’d been crucial in solving over a hundred homicides with the NYPD. This… this just wasn’t possible. 

He let out a shuddery breath and let his gaze pointlessly wander around the room. At first, he hadn’t paid any attention to the bookcase along the back wall, but now that he thought about it, from the outside he’d glimpsed the tiny addition to the shack that should have been along that same wall. 

Castle momentarily forgot about his despair and walked over to inspect the crude furnishing. He trailed his fingers along the interface of the wall and bookcase. He was rewarded with the faintest ghost of hot air on his fingertips. Hope welled in him again. “Hey. Hey! There’s a hole in the wall behind this bookcase!”

Three officers immediately came over to see what the writer was talking about. Instead of searching for a secret latch, the men forcibly wrenched the case away from the wall. The putrid scent of death immediately assaulted them, riding on the wave of oven-hot air that spilled angrily into the living room. Castle choked for a minute with the SWAT team as they fought their gag reflexes. Undeterred, Castle pulled his shirt up over his nose and squinted through bleary eyes as he forced himself to step into the lean-to. 

There _were_ bodies in the room. Castle counted three… well, two and a severely decayed skeleton in the far corner. He didn’t hold much hope for the unfortunate victims to his right. It had to be over one hundred degrees in that room and the smell was unbearable. His heart sank again as he took in the small bodies curled in fetal positions on the dirt floor. They were children, he could tell easily, but not his. These two were bigger and dressed in plain, tattered white shirts. They were absolutely still as the SWAT officers gathered around, checking for any signs of life. 

“I’ve got a pulse,” announced one of the officers. He grabbed his walkie-talkie. “Central, this is Officer Smith. We have two survivors. Male, between the ages of eight and twelve. Unresponsive but breathing.” Castle’s gut clenched at the confirmation of what he’d seen for himself. The captives were too big to be his detectives. 

Completely defeated by the failure to locate his boys and the new knowledge that his friends hadn’t been the only victims of Rayford’s madness, Castle stepped out of the lean-to in search of Kate and breathable air. It was time to face the music and find out if the shallow graves out front contained Javier’s and Kevin’s bodies.

_to be continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.   
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art: lsmwalls.tumblr.om/image/58939397473


	43. Second Tuesday Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Castle has a epiphany...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Forty-Three

Castle was thwarted from making a quick escape to the outdoors by the rush of SWAT and forest rangers towards the hidden lean-to. He obligingly moved to the side to let the lone firefighter make her way towards the lucky victims who’d been found just in time, it seemed. She was a trained first responder and equipped with the meager medical supplies that fit into the Jeep. She would be responsible for keeping the children alive until the ambulance arrived. 

At least someone’s parents would find a reason to smile again tonight. Castle angrily kicked at a plastic grocery bag sitting innocently next to the leg of the dusty secretary. Offended, the bag spilled its contents onto the dirty floor. Castle’s breath caught in his throat when he recognized the clothes now bunched at his feet. He dropped to his haunches so he could pick up the tiny t-shirt with the silly smiling dinosaur. Kevin had been wearing these very pajamas when Castle had carried him downstairs on Sunday morning. Under the dinosaur shirt was Javier’s X-Men set. Why had Bellefonte taken them out of their clothes before burying them?

A sudden thought caused Castle to stand up too quickly. He cracked his head on the corner of the secretary and let out an unabridged curse at the ugly furniture. Besides knocking loose his barely restrained headache, a small cardboard box also skipped off the desk and landed with a plop on the wood planks. Cradling his newly injured head with one hand, Castle upended the box. Two NYPD detective badges fell out. Castle bit his tongue to keep from screaming for Kate. The boys _had_ been in this shack at some point. He recalled the idea that had caused him to jump up in the first place. The boys were likely _still_ in this shack. 

He stood up with a little more respect for the secretary and turned towards the hole in the wall that led to the overheated room. The firefighter was just emerging, one arm lifted protectively over her nose. Behind her, two SWAT members followed, each carrying a small bundle wrapped in an emergency blanket. Castle discretely slipped the badges into his pocket and pushed his way over to the threadbare couch where the younger child had been laid. The officer grumbled loudly when Castle shouldered him aside so he could get a better look. 

The boy, just shy of the decade mark, did nothing more than flinch unconsciously when the writer brushed his hand over the too-hot skin of his forehead and his matted, tangled, dark blonde hair. His little mouth was partially open as he struggled to breathe, likely still fighting to overcome the thick, poisonous air of the lean-to. Castle would recognize Kevin Ryan’s familiar straight teeth anywhere. The detective had an infectious smile. Now that the child in front of him was old enough to have lost his baby teeth and grown his adult ones, Castle was sure that he had found his Irish detective. 

Somehow, in the past two days, his boys had aged by about five years. They likely had Rayford and his evil mother to thank for that - or not thank, given the current state of the cursed detective. He was an alarming shade of pale and completely unresponsive to being prodded, save for his initial flinch. His pink lips were chapped and cracked and his little tongue looked swollen from a lack of moisture. Whereas Castle had broken into sweat just by stepping into that makeshift oven, the child’s skin was bone-dry. 

“Sir, you need to step aside so I can tend to him,” said the firefighter medic. She looked apologetic but resolute. 

“He’s mine,” insisted Castle. He didn’t want to move away. 

“He’s one of the missing children?” The firefighter looked closely at the unconscious boy. “I thought the missing Caucasian was about four.”

“Where did you hear that?” asked Castle with a nervous chuckle. “He’s clearly… nine.” He gave the woman his best sincere look. She still seemed dubious but let it go in the interest of gaining access to her patient. 

“He’s showing signs of extreme dehydration. If you don’t let me help him, you could still lose him.” That got Castle to grudgingly move away. He was loathe to abandon Kevin but he wondered if he might have better luck with Javier. From what he could see, the older boy was actually moving under his own power. 

Castle leaned over the tanned boy. Like it had been with Kevin, Castle found it easy to recognize the Hispanic detective in the eleven-year-old now that he actually took the time to look at him. Javier’s warm brown eyes were open and he looked confused as he took in the mass of unfamiliar faces. Castle’s heart melted when the boy looked at him and his fearful expression morphed into one of relief. Javier reached for the writer and Castle willingly met him halfway, lifting the child into his lap as he twisted around to sit on the dirty armchair. Javier hid his face against the curve of Castle’s scruffy neck and wrapped his arms around the older man with what little strength he had. Castle held him securely, crying silent tears of joy and relief into the dark locks. 

“Can you get him to drink this?” asked one of the forest rangers. He held out a clear plastic bottle of murky water. 

“What is that?” asked Castle distrustfully. 

“It’s for treating dehydration,” replied the soft-spoken man. 

“Oh. Yeah, I’ll try. Can someone go find Detective Beckett?”

The ranger nodded and departed to seek out the no-doubt devastated woman. Castle gently pushed the boy back until he was straddling Castle’s legs and resting his weight on the writer’s knees. Castle silently remarked to himself that Javier had to have gained a good thirty pounds. “Hey, Javi,” he said slowly. “Drink this for me?” Castle unscrewed the cap from the water bottle and held it up to the boy’s mouth. 

“Slowly,” warned the annoyingly observant firefighter from across the room. Castle spared her half a glance before refocusing on Javier. He kept one hand gently bracing the back of Javier’s neck to help the boy with balance while he carefully poured a few drops into the detective’s parched mouth. Javier grasped Castle’s wrist and tried to push the bottle higher. Castle struggled to resist giving in to the thirsty child’s desperate bid for water. When Castle thought he’d found a safe amount of the liquid that wouldn’t choke the boy or upset his stomach, he let Javier drink until he had to stop to breathe. By then Beckett was barreling into the room and nearly colliding with her boyfriend. 

“Thank goodness,” she sobbed. “Javi.”

Tired brown eyes slanted to the side to regard the haggard female detective. Javier was unwilling to let go of the water bottle, even to receive a monster hug from Kate. Kate settled for sitting on the chair’s arm and pressing against Castle’s side while brushing her fingers through Javier’s hair as he continued to nurse as much liquid out of the bottle as Castle would let him. 

“Where’s Kevin?” asked Kate, unwilling to take her eyes off of her partner lest he vanish again. 

“The medic has him over there,” said Castle. He swallowed thickly. “He was unconscious when they carried him out of the lean-to.” Kate finally looked towards the couch where a group of SWAT personnel were tending to the motionless bundle. 

“I’ll be right back,” she said with fresh tears in her eyes. She leaned forward to kiss Javier’s temple before standing and moving to check on her younger partner. 

Outside, sirens broke through the din of raised voices as the ambulances and a fire truck reached the scene. EMTs and firefighters hastily moved into the house, relieving their colleague of her duty and crowding around Castle and Javier. When one of the EMTs tried to pull the weary boy away from Castle, Javier made a terrified sound of distress and grasped at the writer’s shirt. Castle immediately responded by wrapping the boy in a protective and possessive embrace. He glared at the first responder. 

“Sorry, sorry,” the young man said. “You can keep holding him. Just let me have access to his back.”

One of the new firefighters took the murky water. “This was full?”

“Um, yeah, I think so.” That sounded right to Castle.

“He’s had enough, then.” Javier didn’t like losing the drink any more than he liked being pulled away from Castle. The writer made calming sounds in the back of his throat as he tried to soothe the trembling boy. Javier eventually relaxed, resting his head once more on Castle’s shoulder as the EMT gently peeled the back of Javier’s shirt away from the angry red welts. 

“Do you remember how you got these owies?” asked the EMT. The young man tried to keep his voice as low and non-threatening as possible. Javier nodded but didn’t actually elaborate. He twitched in pain when a peroxide pad was pressed against one of the marks. Castle had to concentrate on not letting his anger at the obvious sign of abuse cause him to hold Javier too tightly. 

“What happened, Javi?” asked Castle. 

“Belt.” The child’s voice was hoarse and barely louder than a whisper. Castle’s vision briefly flickered to red.

The firefighter returned with a portable oxygen mask and pulse monitor. Javier wasn’t a fan of the plastic cup that was strapped over his nose and mouth, nor the clip that engulfed his left middle finger. Castle was reminded of his own brief stay in the hospital as Javier’s eyelids started to droop within seconds. It wasn’t fair that these medical types kept secretly drugging people.

The EMT did what he could to dress the puckered wounds. This time, Javier was too loopy to resist being taken from the writer and carried out to the waiting stretcher by the helpful firefighter. Castle stayed next to him the whole time, his large hand engulfing the smaller one. Kevin had already been loaded into his ambulance. Kate briefly jogged over to her boyfriend after barking an order to the ambulance driver to not leave without her. Castle could see Randy seated in the back of the bus, looking overly distressed by what he was seeing. Castle’s gut tightened sickly. 

“What’s going on?” asked the writer. 

“Nothing, I hope. Kevin’s at least responding to stimulation now, even though he still hasn’t woken up,” said Kate breathlessly. “Randy’s concerned that something went wrong with the you-know-what and that’s why he’s so hard to awaken.”

“Shit.”

“We have them back, Rick. We have to keep hoping for the best.” He could tell that her control of her emotions was balancing on the edge of a very sharp knife. 

“You’re right. If you’re going with Kevin, I’ll ride with Javier.”

“Okay,” agreed Kate. She kissed Castle briefly before jogging back to the waiting ambulance. Castle accompanied Javier’s stretcher to the second medical truck.

xXx

The white witch waited patiently as her quarry finished piling a few pine branches over the abandoned gold Buick. Around her, the fresh smell of the early summer forest was tainted by the sour odor of dark magic. Bianca was eager to return the forest to its natural state and remove the stain caused by the presence of the evil witch before her. She also needed to wash the bit of tree sap off her cream-colored skirt before that stained. 

Rayford Bellefonte took a long second to observe his handy work. Had she not stood there for the past ten minutes, watching him bury the vehicle, she might not have known immediately that it was there. He wasn’t very good at hiding his magical tracks, but apparently hiding his physical tracks wasn’t too difficult. 

Bellefonte finally turned away from the old car and started up the slight incline back to the path. He stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed the white witch standing between him and the narrow trail that led back to his thoroughly unappealing dwelling. Bianca’s mouth twisted into a self-satisfied smile before she could stop it. She kept her head slightly bowed, peering at Bellefonte from beneath the wide brim of her ivory summer hat. She rested the tip of her closed parasail against the soft earth in front of her since the dense canopy above was doing a fine job shielding her fair skin from the punishing sun. 

“Castova,” he sneered. 

“Castova was a drunken old man who was inordinately fond of beating his wife and daughter,” corrected the white witch. “I am simply Bianca.”

“What are you doing here?” demanded Bellefonte. His scowling face was overcome by the rotting visage of his spirit. Bianca blinked slowly to switch her vision back to the physical world. “How did you get here?”

“I borrowed your brother’s car,” she responded calmly. Really, there was no reason to yell. The other witch’s shouted questions had caused the chirping birds to head for safer perches. “Among other things, I excel at hotwiring.”

“I have nothing to say to you. Get out of my way.” Bellefonte took a few threatening steps forward with one hand held out, magical attack at the ready. Bianca held her ground. 

“I’m glad,” she said. “I don’t have much to say to you, either, and I’d like to be done with this messy business as quickly as possible.”

There was a pulse of magic that traveled through the forest like a slowly expanding ripple of water. Bianca resisted the urge to turn her head in the direction of the shack, about two miles away. She kept her gaze on Bellefonte, who started cursing as he realized what was happening. “Oh my,” said Bianca sweetly. “Young Randall and his friends have finally reached your hideout.”

“Mama!” Bellefonte leapt forward, intent on sprinting to the old woman’s aide. Bianca held up her hand, palm directed towards the dark witch. Bellefonte was thrown backwards, landing in the dirt on his back. His expression was murderous as he quickly jumped back to his feet. 

“Tut, tut. You must let your little brother finish. It is his burden, after all, to put your dreadful mother to rest at last.”

“I will kill you!” Bellefonte charged Bianca again. His spirit crackled with mounting potential as he summoned all of his ill-gained dark magic. “I will kill you all!”

“Don’t be so cliché,” said Bianca. “It’s boring.” Her own spirit flared around her and Bellefonte was once more sent flying. He was slower to rise this time, though his fury had intensified. 

“Your meddling in my affairs will not go unpunished,” promised Bellefonte. Bianca was glad that she was standing far enough from the loathsome man that his spittle didn’t reach her as he spat out his words. “You cannot triumph over me. My power is too great now!”

Bianca sighed. Bellefonte sounded as if he’d practiced his contrived speech. It was probably meant for dear Katherine. The young detective would be upset to miss Bellefonte’s undoing, but this was a pleasure Bianca fully intended to enjoy by herself. After all, it wouldn’t do for rumors to get back to the witchy community in New York about the true extent of Bianca’s abilities. She preferred to be underestimated. 

“Your ‘power’ is a ruse. Even your poor, misguided brother could stand against you as you are now.”

“Do not compare me to that traitor,” seethed Bellefonte. “He may have been born with more ability, but I am better than him now. Mama loves me the most.”

“Good for you,” said Bianca sarcastically. “The love of one such as Nora Bellefonte is surely a boon.” 

“Do not insult my mother. You will never be half the witch that she is!”

Or was, corrected Bianca silently. The steady current of magical residue faded. Randall had finished the task Bianca had given him. “That is true,” she said, once more grinning darkly. “For I am already twice the witch she ever dreamed of being.” She raised her own gloved hand. “Be gone, evil spirits.”

Rayford Bellefonte started to convulse. His whole body shook. He shouldn’t have been able to remain standing but Bianca’s magic kept him hovering a few inches over the pine needle-covered ground. Whatever ability the unknown Dresden had given the sickly witch, it had completely fused with Bellefonte’s spirit. Bianca narrowed her eyes and frowned as she pushed a little more of her magic into her attack. 

The dark witch let out a strangled moan as the stolen power finally separated from his natural ability. In the physical world, nothing could be seen save for the groaning witch, but Bianca could clearly see the miniature pops of light as the evil magic was consumed and destroyed by her pure magic. Once every bit of Bellefonte’s unnatural ability had been wrenched from his shaking form, Bianca lowered her arm and took a few deep breaths. 

The older Bellefonte brother fell to his hands and knees, panting and groaning. Bianca watched him distastefully. With his limited strength, Bellefonte would need at least thirty minutes to limp back to his shack. By then, she fully expected that Katherine would be reunited with her partners and the place would be swarming with police officers. Even if Bellefonte foolishly tried to confront the detective, Bianca was sure that Randall could handle his brother now. 

The white witch turned her back on the hateful man and casually retraced the path she’d taken from the side road where she’d left Randall’s borrowed car. She lovingly trailed her gloved fingers over the ripening fruit of a bilberry bush as she passed.

_to be continued…_  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.  
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art: lsmwalls.tumblr.com/image/58939397473


	44. Second Wednesday Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein there's still bad news to be had...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Forty-Four

Beckett yawned widely and shifted her weight slightly so she could nuzzle her warm body pillow. It didn’t exactly smell like fresh cotton or summer roses, but what could she expect after a night in the woods followed by a night on a plastic hospital couch? She was sure that she was starting to smell rather ripe, too. 

Her pillow rumbled with a contented hum. Beckett smiled softly and smoothed her hand over the wrinkled cotton beneath her cheek. With any luck, they’d be signing out of the hospital in the next few hours and heading back to Manhattan where Castle had a heavenly soft mattress and sensationally silky sheets. 

“You awake?” mumbled Castle. He stroked her limp hair, gently pushing most of it behind her shoulder. 

“Mm, yeah.” Beckett pressed a quick kiss over Castle’s heart and then forced herself to sit upright. She stretched her hands over her head while grinning at her boyfriend. Castle rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced a bit at the stitch that was likely there thanks to sleeping in a mostly seated position. Beckett wanted to honor her lover’s sacrifice that ensured her own relative comfort, but first, she needed to check on her boys. 

Beckett forewent her shoes and padded across the cool linoleum floor in just her socks. The soft light of the early morning sun gave her plenty of light to see by. Not much in the small hospital room had changed since she’d fallen asleep the night before. 

Besides the stiff plastic couch - apparently an upgrade from the typical uncomfortable chairs in the rooms outside the pediatric ward - there was a private bathroom, a small sink and counter near the door, a painfully outdated television mounted in the corner, various beeping machines, and two narrow hospital beds. If they were still stuck here by the time night fell again, she was going to bunk with one of the boys. Even the overly firm mattress and scratchy linens were a step up from the couch shoved under the window. Sorry, Castle. 

Closest to the window was her younger partner. Even with an extra twelve inches and twenty-five pounds, Kevin still looked so small curled up under the faded pastel blanket. She chewed on her lower lip as she brushed his matted bangs away from his forehead. If she needed a shower, then her boys definitely needed a good scrubbing. She was starting to think that a haircut was also in order. It probably didn’t matter, anyway. As soon as they were back in Manhattan, she was going to insist that Randy turn her partners back into adults. 

Beckett ran the back of her index finger over the soft skin at his temple and then along the curve of his jaw. She was torn between waking him up and letting him sleep. The doctors had succeeded in rousing him the night before, but he’d been so disoriented and out of it that she wondered if he even understood that he had been rescued. It scared her, especially since Javier had been so alert when he wasn’t sleeping off his ordeal. In the ambulance, Randy hadn’t had enough time or privacy to determine for sure if something physical or magical was ailing the younger detective. After arriving at the hospital, he hadn’t been able to make it past the army of orderlies and nurses who were staunchly against non-family members visiting without the doctor’s permission. It had been a fight for both Beckett and Castle to gain access to the boys’ private room. 

“His color is better,” said Castle softly. She leaned into him when he wrapped his arm around her waist. His statement was true - Kevin was slightly flushed now, instead of rivaling a snowflake for whitest complexion. The color was due in no small part to the fever simmering beneath his skin, working away at the infection that had manifested in the ugly red welts dotted across his back. She hoped that the antibiotics administered the night before would quickly fix the problem. 

“Should I wake him up?” asked Beckett. Castle must have been on the same train of thought as she was. He pondered the suggestion for a moment before nodding slowly. Kevin could sleep as much as he wanted after his friends were appeased. 

Beckett gently shook the nine-year-old’s shoulder. “Rise and shine, baby boy,” she said softly. It took a minute, but the blond finally responded to the jostling. He blinked slowly before focusing on Beckett’s smiling face. She wanted to leap for joy when it was obvious that he was actually looking at her, not just staring blindly in her direction. Instead, she squatted down to be at his eye-level and fondly caressed the side of his face. “Hi.”

Kevin tried to respond, but ending up making a sour face and swallowing with a grimace. Beckett felt Castle move away to search for something wet for the boy to suck on. The IV connected to the back of his left hand was taking care of his hydration and nutrition, but did nothing for his dry mouth and throat. Beckett continued to pet him, unable to fully accept that she really had him back and this wasn’t just a dream in the midst of a nightmare. 

Castle returned with a small cup of cool water. Beckett moved to sit on the edge of the narrow bed so she could lift Kevin into a half-seated position. She kept one arm securely wrapped around his torso as he leaned back against her, too weak to support himself yet. She helped him steady the flimsy cup. Once he swallowed the few ounces of liquid, Kevin diligently watched Castle carry the cup across the room and drop it into the wastebasket. Beckett rested her chin on top of his head and watched her boyfriend as well. 

Once he noticed the scrutiny he was under, Castle paused to look self-consciously around himself. He hammed up his performance, spinning in a complete circle to try to identify what could possibly be so interesting. “Did I spill something on myself?” the writer asked with an exaggerated expression of worry. He patted down the front of his shirt, checked his pant pockets, and even ran his hands through his ruffled hair a few times to make sure everything was in order. “Kate, did I forget to iron my face again?”

“I don’t know, Rick, but you are starting to look a bit wrinkled,” she replied with a grin. 

“Drat, I knew I missed a step somewhere in my daily routine.” Castle rubbed his hands over his face. When he dropped them to his sides again, he was sporting a ridiculous funny face complete with crossed eyes and a lopsided grin. Kevin let out soft sigh, prompting Beckett to lean down so she could see his profile. He wasn’t smiling, but his blue eyes were bright as he regarded the author. Castle cycled through a variety of comical expressions on his way back to the bedside. He ended on a tragic pout when Kevin yawned widely behind his hand. 

“Tough crowd,” teased Beckett. She squeezed her partner briefly, mindful of his sore back. Kevin let out another slow breath, followed by a barely audible hitch. 

“No kidding.” Castle sobered as he leaned down and wrapped his long fingers around Kevin’s little hand. “Hey, buddy. I’m okay, see? I’ll probably have a rakishly sexy scar to prove how courageous I was, but that’s the only improvement I’ve made since I last saw you.” After a few long moments, Kevin nodded slowly. “How about we wake up your lazy partner and see about getting out of here?” Kevin nodded more enthusiastically at that idea. 

Beckett stayed seated on the hard bed with both of her arms wrapped loosely around her younger partner. She slowly rocked from side to side. Castle moved over to Javier’s bed and prodded the older boy awake with less gentleness than Beckett had used with Kevin. The Hispanic boy grumbled at the rude awakening. His storm clouds dissipated quickly when he noticed that his partner was also awake. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” said Castle when Javier started peeling off the tape that held his IV needle in place. “You need to leave that alone.”

“I don’t need it anymore.”

“Oh, you earned a medical degree while you were off playing in the woods, did you?”

“I dated an ME.”

“I don’t think it works by association.”

“We were more than associates, Castle,” said Javier matter-of-factly. 

Castle stuttered for a second and then frowned. “You know what - you’re still too little for innuendo. And swearing.”

“Man, have you heard how kids talk these days?”

“Not any of my kids,” countered Castle. Javier rolled his eyes. 

“How are you feeling, Javi?” asked Beckett. 

“Hungry and thirsty, but I don’t want any more of that nasty sugar-salt water.”

“I’ll buzz the nurse and see if you can have Gatorade or something now,” said Castle. He happily reached for the call button dangling from the side of Javier’s bed. 

“I want to do it,” insisted the detective. 

“Why?”

“It’s my bed, my button,” said Javier. 

“It was my idea to call the nurse.”

“So?”

“Look, let me do it this time and when we get back to the loft, I’ll let you have the remote and you can push all the buttons you want.”

“It’s not the same.” Castle struggled to come up with a valid argument but, unfortunately, he felt the same way. With an annoyed huff, the writer passed the call button to the eleven-year-old. Beckett struggled to resist laughing too loudly and shaking Kevin. Javier successfully depressed the button and then tossed it onto the bed next to his pillow. Castle swatted his shoulder when Javier tried to remove the IV again. 

A matronly woman with bright red lipstick framing her sunny smile entered the room, armed with a stethoscope and thermometer. “Oh, we’re all awake,” she said cheerfully. “How did you sleep?”

“Not so well,” replied Castle. “I think you were had by your interior designer. That couch is not comfortable.”

The nurse laughed and waved at the writer. “We get that complaint all of the time, so I know better than to ask the parents. I’m interested in how well my little pumpkins slept.”

“Yeah, Castle. Geez.” Castle stuck his tongue out at Javier when the nurse wasn’t looking. 

“I’m Nurse Beth. We met briefly last night but you were all so exhausted, I doubt you remember much of what went on.” That was true, Beckett admitted to herself. The nurse did seem familiar, however. “I’m glad to see you’re awake, sweetie. Your mommy was getting worried when you couldn’t keep your eyes open yesterday.”

Beckett wished she could see Kevin’s face. Castle was hiding his stupid grin behind his hands and Javier was turning pink on his partner’s behalf. Kevin leaned back against Beckett, seeking refuge from the unwanted attention. Undeterred, the nurse held up the thermometer. “I’m going to check your temperature to see if your nasty fever has gone down at all, okay?” Kevin shook his head. “Mommy?” said Nurse Beth with an indicating look at the female detective. 

Beckett swallowed her mirth and minute embarrassment at the incorrect assumption. “It just goes in your ear, baby boy.” Kevin endured the procedure and subsequent check of his pupil dilatation, his heart beat, and his lung sound. 

“The 101 temperature isn’t so good, but everything else seems all right,” Nurse Beth reported. She jotted down her notes on the clipboard pinned to the foot of Kevin’s bed. “Your turn, pumpkin,” she told Javier when she was done. While she was checking Javier’s vitals, Castle informed her of the boy’s illicit attempts to remove the IV from the back of his hand. Javier promised the writer a painful death with his glare as the nurse patiently explained to him that he needed to leave it alone so it could continue to replenish all of the fluids and nutrients he’d lost over the past few days. Castle smugly handed the nurse Javier’s charts so she could record the boy’s numbers. 

“I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake,” promised Nurse Beth. “In a little bit, we’ll check your owies and put on new bandages. Is there anything you need before I go?”

“Hungry,” said Javier.

“I bet you are. I’ll ask the cafeteria to make something yummy for you.” She left with the instructions to call her back whenever they needed to. 

Javier picked up the controller for his bed and pushed on various buttons until he managed to raise the head. Once satisfied with the position of his pillow, the eleven-year-old settled in and pulled his scratchy blanket over his lap. Castle made himself comfortable near the Hispanic detective’s feet. 

“Oh,” said writer brightly. “I never asked you if your tooth grew back.”

“It did,” said Javier. He bared his pearly white teeth at the writer and indeed, he had all of his teeth. “I don’t know where the loose one went.”

“It fell out?” Castle looked a little crestfallen that Javier had lost his tooth without him there to record the boy’s misfortune. 

“Sunday, I think on the way to the woods. It was gone when I woke up.”

“Well, I’m sure the tooth fairy will understand and still visit you.”

Javier got a funny look on his face. Neither Beckett nor Castle had the opportunity to question him about it. An intern stepped into the room, laden down with a tray of yummy food for each of the boys. 

“Yummy” turned out to be a watered down chicken broth and applesauce. Javier pouted at his spread. “What do you expect?” asked Castle. “It is a hospital.”

“Surely they can do better than this.”

“Javi, you’ll make yourself sick if you try to eat or drink too much too quickly,” said Beckett soothingly. “We’ll go to your favorite deli when we’re back in the city.” She was starting to feel sleepy again. The long, emotionally charged search for her missing partners was still dragging on her. She felt like she’d never be able to catch up on rest. Once Kevin finished picking at his applesauce, she’d strongly suggest a nap. He wasn’t very big. There was plenty of room for both of them on the narrow mattress. 

Her plans were thwarted when Nurse Beth returned, accompanied by Nurse Renee and Doctor DeAngelo. Since Beth’s shift was about to end, Renee was there to help her redress the cuts from the belting while Dr. DeAngelo caught up with his patients’ charts and checked the boys over briefly himself. 

When he was finished, the doctor asked Castle and Beckett to join him outside in the hall. Beckett yawned widely as she sat down next to Castle on an equally uncomfortable couch in the common area of the pediatrics ward. Dr. DeAngelo pulled up a chair so he could sit directly across from them. 

“How are you holding up?” he asked, leaning forward with his forearms resting on his knees. 

“Exhausted,” said Beckett. “I can’t wait to sleep for real.”

“When can we take the boys home?” asked Castle. He threaded his fingers through Beckett’s and pulled their conjoined hands into his lap. Beckett leaned against his strong shoulder as she regarded the doctor expectantly. 

“That’s what I’d like to talk about with you.” Even though he appeared calm and outwardly reassuring, Beckett had spoken with enough people who were trying to sugarcoat things to know that something bad was coming. Her back twinged as the muscles behind her shoulders tightened. “The lab work came back about half an hour ago. For the most part, the results were good. It’s not surprising that there were signs of anemia considering their abductor didn’t give them any food or water. They’ve also responded well to the treatments for dehydration. Typically, that’s something that only requires a short observation period at the hospital and then a specific diet for a few days at home.”

“That’s good,” said Castle hesitantly. “So there was nothing off in the blood tests?” Beckett immediately thought back to Lanie’s discovery that Serafina Valduerez was actually a forty-eight year old woman based on her autopsy tests. If the hospital ran the same kinds of checks on the boys, would they notice something strange, as well?

“In Javier’s, no,” said the doctor. “He seems to be a perfectly healthy eleven-year-old who went a little longer than recommended without necessary nutrients.”

“And Kevin?” Beckett’s stomach started to hurt. 

“He came out of their ordeal a little worse off,” said the doctor. That wasn’t news - it had taken a long time for the younger detective to wake up and interact with his surroundings. “We ran a complete blood count test on them both to make sure we covered all of our bases since we don’t have prior medical records to go off of. Kevin’s blood count was significantly low in a number of key areas. Are you familiar with the different types of cells and fluids that make up blood?”

“Yes,” said Castle. “What, he’s extra-iron deficient? He eats like a bird. That doesn’t surprise me.” 

“Not exactly. His red blood cell count is one of the markers that was lower than I prefer,” replied Dr. DeAngelo. “His platelet count is also low, meaning he’s more prone to bruising and could also explain why the cuts on his back and feet aren’t scabbing as nicely as Javier’s.”

“I’ve heard of that,” said Castle. “Thrombo…”

“Thrombocytopenia,” offered the doctor. “It’s not uncommon for low red blood cell and platelet counts to occur at the same time. Different types of anemia can result in thrombocytopenia. There was a third marker that concerned me, however.” Beckett and Castle were silent as they waited for the man to continue. In fact, Beckett realized after a second or two that she’d started holding her breath. “His white blood cell count wasn’t exactly low. In fact, he has an excess of them which is to be expected since he’s fighting off a nasty infection from the cuts on his back. Javier’s count was on the high end of the spectrum, too.”

“If he’s got so many white blood cells fighting the infection, how come it’s not getting any better?” asked Castle. “You guys have pumped him full of antibiotics, too.”

“It’s not getting any better because the white blood cells are immature and not actually capable of effectively fighting the infection,” explained the doctor. 

“So, you’re saying that his body is producing an excessive amount of useless white blood cells?” asked Castle. 

“In so many words, yes.”

“What causes that?” asked Beckett in a small voice. She was starting to doubt that she’d woken up from her nightmare after all. Either that, or the universe seriously enjoyed toying with her. 

“It could be a number of things,” said the doctor. “I want to run a few more tests to pinpoint the actual cause.”

“What tests?”

“First, a bone marrow aspiration and biopsy,” said the doctor casually. “It’s just a simple procedure that will help eliminate a few possible culprits.” He smiled comfortingly at the slowly panicking couple. 

“What exactly are you trying to eliminate?” asked Castle suspiciously. All of this medical talk was a little over Beckett’s head. She could usually go to Lanie for an explanation whenever a case hinged on a victim’s or suspect’s illness. She got the impression that Castle was more informed than she was. She was familiar with the way his brow furrowed when he was putting together puzzle pieces and not liking the picture that was emerging. 

“I don’t want to worry you unnecessarily. I have high hopes that the tests will come back negative,” said Dr. DeAngelo.

“It’s too late for that,” said Castle. He had to stop and take a deep breath to get his emotions and the volume of his voice back under control. “Because I do a lot of research for my stories and I’ve seen those terms before. It sounds to me like you’re testing him for leukemia.”

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.   
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art: lsmwalls.tumblr.com/image/58939397473


	45. Second Wednesday Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein delivers and receives more bad news...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Forty-Five

Castle wasn’t sure if he could handle any more bad news. He also didn’t feel up to delivering any, either. Still, it was up to him to muster the strength he didn’t have in order to walk back into the boys’ hospital room sporting a brave face and a witty sense of humor. 

Thank goodness he had Javier to call him on his bullshit immediately. 

“What’s going on?” asked the Hispanic detective as soon as Castle appeared in the doorway, sans Kate. His girlfriend was still in the hallway, frantically making arrangements for one of the Feds to pick Randy up from the hotel and bring him to the hospital. He was sure she’d be on the phone with her best friend next, searching for answers that the doctor was hesitant to give them. 

“What do you mean?” Castle sat on the foot of Javier’s bed and did his best to look relaxed. 

“What did the doctor say?”

“Oh, he said that you could be discharged pretty soon,” replied the author. “We just need to get the rundown on how to take care of your ‘owies’ and what you’re allowed to eat or drink for the next few days.”

“Don’t call them ‘owies’,” said Javier. “We’re not actually five.”

“I don’t know about that,” teased Castle. “Remember how Lanie could tell Valduerez was really a shrunken adult? Apparently you two actually appear nine and eleven.”

Javier paled slightly. Castle glanced over to see Kevin’s reaction. The Irishman was lying down again, but his clear blue eyes were wide open as he followed the conversation. “What does that mean?” asked Javier. 

“I don’t know. Probably nothing. I mean, you got a little bigger, right? Obviously the change isn’t 100% permanent.” 

“True.” Javier mused on this for a while. “What else did the doctor say?”

“I guess he thinks Kevin hasn’t been poked enough. He wants to run another test to see why his fever isn’t going down like it should.”

“You said we could go home.” Javier frowned deeply. 

“I said you could go home,” corrected Castle. 

“How come he couldn’t say that in here?” Javier’s suspicious look gave Castle the chills. Really, it wasn’t fair that a little kid could be so intimidating. Castle was still almost two feet taller than the ex-soldier, even given Javier’s recent growth spurt. He should be the one doing the intimidating. “Why’d you go out in the hall for so long and why hasn’t Beckett come back yet?”

“Kate wanted to make a couple phone calls.”

“Who?”

“That’s her business.”

“You’re hiding something,” said Javier. “How come I can go home and Kevin can’t?”

“I already told you that,” said Castle. His strong façade was quickly deteriorating. 

“You gave us some junk answer and hoped we wouldn’t notice,” accused Javier. “Castle, we’re not little kids. If the doctor told you something about Kevin, he has the right to know. He _is_ an adult.”

Javier was absolutely right. Ten minutes ago, Castle had been annoyed at the doctor for being evasive about the upcoming aspiration and biopsy. Now he was doing the exact same thing to the detectives. If there was even the smallest chance that Castle might have… he couldn’t even think the word… he’d want to know sooner than later, even if it turned out to be a false alarm. Kevin had to feel the same way. 

“Castle,” said Javier impatiently. The Hispanic detective skillfully peeled off the tape holding his IV in place and tossed the plastic cannula over the side of the bed. 

“Dammit, Javier, I told you to leave that alone,” scolded the author. Javier ignored his reprimand and scooted down the bed so he could get right in the older man’s face. Castle didn’t have the energy to stay mad, so he wrapped his arm around the boy in a sideways hug. On the other bed, Kevin had laboriously pushed himself back into a seated position and was watching the writer expectantly. Castle sighed in defeat. “The results of the blood work they did last night came back this morning. The doctor didn’t like some of Kevin’s numbers so he’s trying to figure out what’s causing the irregularities.”

“Did you tell him that a crazy asshole cast a jacked up re-regression spell on us and then beat us with a fucking belt before chaining us to a pole in the room from hell?”

“No, because I do not speak with such foul language,” said Castle. He squeezed the boy briefly in reprimand. “I did ask him if there was a cure for general impertinence, but he hadn’t heard of one. On another point, I believe the opposite of regression is progression, not re-regression.”

“Seriously?” Castle purposefully misunderstood Javier’s incredulity at his impromptu vocabulary lesson. 

“Yes, seriously. You can look it up on my phone if you want.”

Javier scowled fiercely. “Stop playing games.” He poked Castle in the cheek. “What does he think is wrong with Kevin?”

“He said there are a lot of possible causes. He doesn’t think it’s leukemia, and that’s why he wants to do the test to confirm that it’s not.”

“He thinks I have cancer?” asked Kevin in a small voice.

“Do you two ever actually listen to me when I talk? I said he _doesn’t_ think that.”

“But that’s what the test is for?” Kevin’s shoulders hunched and he hugged himself. Castle nearly started crying himself when the blond’s little form started to shake. He let go of Javier so he could cross the small space between the beds and pick up the younger boy. To hell with the IV. Javier was fine after taking his out. He ignored the burn in his muscles - Kevin was really too big for this now - as he jerkily rocked back and forth. He definitely couldn’t do this with just one arm anymore. “I don’t want to do the test. I hate hospitals,” sobbed the cursed youth into Castle’s shoulder. 

“It’s going to be okay,” said the writer. “It’s just a precaution. Yes, you have some of the symptoms, but there weren’t any bad cells in your blood, so the doctor’s hopeful there aren’t any in your bone marrow, either.”

“It’s not okay. It’s never going to be okay.”

“Shhh. That’s not true. Hey, you’ve already grown up once and you didn’t get really sick the first time, right?” Castle could see the older detective shedding his own tears over the scary news but the writer’s main concern was the little boy who was actually ill.

“I hate this.”

“I know. I do, too.” Castle maneuvered so he could sit down on Kevin’s bed when his arms threatened to give out on him. His own brief battle with a concussion had sapped him of his usual strength. “We just need to wait a few hours and then we’ll find out that it was all just a big false alarm and we can go home and get rid of the curse.” He lifted one hand so he could brush Kevin’s sticky bangs away from his eyes. Tears were a good sign, right? It meant his body had fluids to spare. “Did Kate tell you that Randy found a way to undo the spell?”

Javier was receptive to that tidbit of news. He came over to join his friends and pester Castle between sniffles with questions to which the writer didn’t know the answers. Kevin only wanted to cling to Castle and let out his hurt at everything that had happened over the past three days. When Kate stepped back into the room about five minutes later, followed by the technician who would draw the marrow samples from the Irishman, she found her team huddled together on the narrow bed. 

Kevin tried to fight the oversized needle with which the technician was threatening him. It took a good ten minutes of begging and bargaining from the two full-sized adults to get him to lie still while the samples were taken from his hip bone. Even then, Castle had to get a pretty firm hold on the nine-year-old to keep him from squirming too much. Castle felt no better than Rayford Bellefonte, forcing the terrified child to endure even more discomfort. The thought made him nauseous. 

By the time Randy outmaneuvered the hospital staff and gained access to the boys’ room, Kate had managed to bring her younger partner down to the level of hiccups and sniffles. Part of Randy’s success was probably attributed to Special Agent Sorensen, who had accompanied him. Randy came to stop next to the side of Kevin’s bed where Kate was reclining against the fully upright head of the bed with Kevin’s pillow in her lap. The Irishman was clutching the pillow for all he was worth as Kate stroked his dark blonde hair. 

“I know you’ve just received some awful news,” said Sorensen to Castle. “If you wouldn’t mind, though, I’d like to talk to Javier for a few minutes while his memories of what happened are still fresh.” 

Castle would have been angrier with Sorensen’s seemingly insensitive request if he weren’t so curious himself. All he really knew was that Bellefonte had starved, beaten, and locked his boys in an un-air conditioned room without water. There was also the new spell that had pushed them both forward five years, but Sorensen didn’t need to know about that. “Haven’t you spoken with Bellefonte yet?”

Not long after the two ambulances had pulled away with the detectives and writer, Rayford Bellefonte had staggered into the clearing around his shack. SWAT had had no trouble subduing him. As of last night, the crazy witch was behind bars at the Rutland PD headquarters. 

“We’ve tried but he’s still not making much sense,” said the agent. “All he wants to do is scream about his mother’s presumed death and how much he hates Detective Beckett and some lady named Bianca.”

Yes, well, Bianca could have that effect on people. Castle shook his head to clear away the satirical thoughts and turned towards Javier. The eleven-year-old was sitting close the writer but his attention was on his partners. “What do you think, buddy? Can you tell me and Agent Sorensen about what you’ve been doing since Sunday?”

“Right now?” Javier reluctantly turned to face the two older men. 

“Yes, please,” said the FBI agent. “Let’s give your friends some privacy. I saw a nice sitting area by the nurse’s station.”

“I don’t want to go out there in just a hospital gown,” protested Javier. Castle had completely forgotten about the boys’ current attire. Unfortunately, the tiny little outfits that Martha had packed for the boys wouldn’t do them any good anymore. He did have an extra sweatshirt in the bag, though. It would probably fit Javier like a dress but it was better than what he had on. 

Javier didn’t have his full range of motion thanks to the bruises and cuts on his back that pulled painfully if he twisted too much, so Castle helped him pull the gray I ♥ NY top over his head. The Hispanic detective frowned when the sleeves refused to stay bunched up around his elbows and instead hung down well past his hands. Castle skillfully hid his mirth by seeking out a pair of little hospital booties for Javier’s bandaged feet. 

In the sitting area, Castle made sure to lead them to a different grouping of furniture from the one where he and Kate had learned about Kevin’s less than stellar blood lab work. In a rather out-of-character act, Javier pulled himself up into the chair with Castle. The writer made sure to moan and groan theatrically as the boy made himself comfortable. Javier pulled the hem of the sweatshirt over his bent knees so that only his toes peeked out. Castle wrapped his arms loosely around the younger male. If the little guy felt safer tucked up next to the writer, Castle wasn’t going to deny him. 

When the two friends were settled, Sorensen pulled out a voice recorder. Javier eyed it warily. “Try to tell me everything you can remember, even if you don’t think it’s important.”

“I wasn’t awake most of the time.” Javier’s brow furrowed. Castle could tell that he was trying to pull his thoughts together. Javier was rarely the one being interrogated, but he’d been the one asking questions enough to have a good idea of what Sorensen needed to know. 

“Start with Sunday,” said the agent kindly. “What happened when you woke up?”

“Castle was picking on Beckett for being paranoid.”

“I think he wants to know what _you_ were doing, brat.”

“I was defending her honor.” That didn’t sound right, actually. Castle pinched Javier’s arm. 

Sorensen chuckled quietly. “How about when the fake federal officer showed up at Castle’s house? Do you remember what happened then?” 

Javier described the arrival of Chief Brady and Rayford Bellefonte to Castle’s Southampton home from his point of view. He stumbled a bit over the part where Bellefonte had forced his way through the door and Castle had gone down. The writer squeezed him encouragingly, silently promising that he hadn’t suffered any permanent damage from being struck by the wood chunks. Javier did a surprisingly good job relating the brief altercation in the living room with the fire poker and being knocked out in the backyard without mentioning anything magical. The Hispanic detective gave Castle and Ryan a hard time about their interest in fantastical stories, but he wouldn’t make too poor of a storyteller himself. 

The next thing Javier remembered was waking up in the steel cage. He talked about creepy Nora Bellefonte watching them, a man named Saul Davis visiting because Bellefonte was trying to sell the boys off, and Bellefonte trying to choke Kevin because he didn’t want the boys to speak. Javier was nearly shaking as he described the way Bellefonte would try to shock them by applying electricity to the steel bars. Castle was too exhausted to summon any anger. Instead, he just felt increasingly more depressed as Javier outline the abuse they’d endured. 

“Could you identify this Saul Davis person if you saw him again?” asked Sorensen. 

“Get me a sketch artist and I’ll draw you a picture,” said Javier darkly. 

“I’ll remember to do that,” said the agent. “After Davis left, what did Bellefonte or his mother do?”

“He made us drink something really nasty. We were both sick for a long time after that,” said Javier. Castle realized that this must have been the time Bellefonte decided to push the boys forward physically. He suspected there was more to Davis’ visit than Javier had relayed to the agent. “I didn’t wake up again until Monday morning, I think.”

Javier described managing to escape from the cage when the Bellefontes were away. Castle was impressed and unnerved by the ex-soldier’s lock-picking abilities. He hoped Javier never wanted to get into any of his secure hidey-holes. Castle felt his chest constrict painfully as Javier explained how far they’d made it from the house before Bellefonte caught them again. If only the search party had started a day earlier…

“I didn’t know how sick Kevin was,” said Javier tearfully. “I didn’t… I mean, I thought he was having a hard time from whatever Bellefonte gave us the night before, but I was doing better and I didn’t know. I teased him for being out of shape.” Javier broke down then. Castle hugged him tightly as his own solitary tear slid down his scruffy cheek. 

“It’s okay, kiddo. He’s going to be fine. You did such a good job getting out of that house and going for help,” said Castle in a rough voice. “We all know what good care you take of Kevin. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Maybe we should take a break,” said Sorensen softly. His face was etched with deep frown lines as he watched Javier whimper into Castle’s shoulder. 

“I think that’s about the end of it, anyway,” said Castle. “From what he’s told me before now, I think Bellefonte locked them in that hidden room after catching them again. We found them the next afternoon.”

“Okay. Do you need help getting him back to the room?”

“I think we’ll just sit out here for a few minutes,” said Castle. “I don’t want to overwhelm Kate.”

“I understand. Do you mind if I work on my computer for a bit?”

“Not at all.” 

Castle shifted as much as he could to find a more comfortable position. Once settled, he tightened his embrace around his little boy and rested his chin atop the messy chocolate brown locks. Idly, he watched a pair of squirrels chase each other up and down the trunk of a wide oak tree and thought about steampunk.

xXx

Castle and Javier stayed in the cramped uncomfortable chair for a while. Once the squirrels ran off to another tree, out of Castle’s sight, the writer had shifted his attention to the rest of the small hospital wing. More worried parents and concerned relatives filtered into the ward, each focused completely on the small human confined to his or her respective room. A nurse came by at one point to check on Javier, but Castle managed to convince her that the eleven-year-old wouldn’t suffer any more damage by remaining with the author and the FBI agent. 

Sorensen worked diligently on his laptop. A part of Castle was curious as to what the man was doing, but the bigger part of him didn’t want to move. It wasn’t until an overburdened delivery man stumbled into the waiting area that Castle finally decided it was time to go back into the hospital room. He was, after all, Richard Castle, the man for whom the delivery guy was searching. 

“Be sure to tell Alexis Castle that little kids are typically happy with normally sized teddy bears,” said the guy wryly. Javier’s sleepy chocolate-colored eyes were wide as he took in the four foot tall stuffed animal. With it were an assortment of potted Get-Well-Soon plants and boxes of candy that were better kept for later. 

Castle signed off on the various deliveries with a short laugh. He wondered how they were supposed to get all of this stuff back to New York. He picked through the plants, checking the names on the cards and relaying the information to Javier. Most of the well-wishes were from their friends who knew about the boys’ true identities. The rest were from over-zealous fans who had heard about the kidnapping of Castle’s cousins and somehow tracked down which hospital they were at. It was both unsettling and heart-warming. 

Castle let Javier keep his pullover. The Hispanic detective was fading quickly and Castle could stand a nap himself. He helped the boy get comfortable on the narrow bed and tucked the blanket securely around him. Javier was asleep by the time Castle finished checking on Kate and Kevin. Kate was curled protectively around her partner on the narrow bed and her shallow breaths ruffled Kevin’s messy hair each time she exhaled. Castle kissed his girlfriend’s cheek and then made his way over to sit next to Randy on the plastic couch. 

“What’s up, Doc?” the writer asked with an exaggerated groan as he settled onto the cushion. 

“Can you believe it? You’re actually the first person to say that to me,” said the fertility doctor. 

“Or I’m just the first with little enough tact to actually say it out loud,” said Castle. Randy nodded in agreement. “So, Kate explained the results of the blood work to you?”

“She did,” said Randy. He glanced towards the door of the room briefly. “It’s not really my place to step in on Dr. DeAngelo’s patient.”

“He doesn’t know half of what’s really going on here,” said Castle. 

“True,” replied Randy. “I don’t have access to the lab report and oncology isn’t my area of expertise. I can’t tell you definitively if the little one does or does not have some variety of leukemia. Based on what Detective Beckett told me, I have hopes that the test will come back negative.”

“Is the spell what did this to him?” Castle gave the older man a look which clearly expressed his desire for a straight answer. 

“Probably,” said the witch. “There are types of illness that directly result from exposure to radiation or destructive chemicals. A spell of the magnitude required to change one’s physical body could easily cause the same kind of damage as radiation.”

“Can you undo the damage?”

“With more magic? I wouldn’t even try. It’d be like trying to heal burns with boiling water,” said Randy. “He’s going to have to fight this on his own.”

Castle took a deep breath. “Can he?”

“He has so far,” said Randy. The doctor tried to give him an encouraging look. “Being so young is both to his advantage and detriment. If the spell did cause an abnormality in his bone tissue that results in some type of cancer, his chances of going into full remission are pretty good at his age. High nineties good.” Castle felt the vise around his heart and lungs loosen slightly. “On the other hand, if he hadn’t been so small, we probably wouldn’t be worrying about this at all.”

“Yeah, about that. Why are they so sick this time? At first they lost thirty years and were pretty much okay after the first night. Now just five years has done all this damage?”

“The first time, my mother cared if they survived. This time, with Rayford being the main witch and my mother having no concern for the well-being of others, no extra precautions were taken. Besides that, the first time they were healthy young men. Now, they’re little kids. Their bodies probably couldn’t handle the stress as well.”

“What does this mean for you turning them back into adults?”

“It means that with the older boy, we have to be very careful. He seems mostly okay with the first five years, but twenty-five years is a much bigger jump. He’ll need just as much, if not more, magical life support than was required when he was turned into a child. But I think Bianca can help with that.”

Castle could clearly hear the unspoken words. “And Kevin?”

Randy slowly shook his head. He looked for a long moment at the bed where Kate was curled around her younger partner. Both were still fast asleep. Castle wasn’t sure how his girlfriend had managed to find enough peace to rest. His exhausted body was captive to his frantically racing mind. That speeding mind was quickly reaching conclusions that Castle didn’t like. 

“Doctor?”

Randy cleared his throat and looked at Castle. “The risks are too high. If a five year spell did this to him, I’m not going to try anything more. It’s not worth his life.”

“Did you tell Kate all of this?”

“No, just that magic is probably responsible for the low blood counts and he’ll likely recover. She took a Tylenol PM in hopes of sleeping until the results came back.”

“Okay. I need to call… someone.” Castle pushed himself off the couch and robotically made his way back into the waiting area. He pulled out his cell phone and hit the speed dial button for his mother. The retired actress answered after three rings. 

“Richard, finally! I had to find out from Agent Sorensen that you found the boys. You couldn’t spare five minutes yesterday to give me the good news?”

“Sorry, Mother,” the writer said emotionlessly. 

“What’s wrong?” Her intuition was something to be feared and envied. 

“Rayford cast another aging spell on them, so they’re bigger now,” said Castle in a low voice so the nurses couldn’t overhear him. 

“That’s a good thing, right?”

“Not really. It made the boys pretty sick. Javi’s going to be okay, but there’s a small chance that the second transformation might have damaged Kevin. They took a bone marrow sample from him to check for leukemia.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” said Martha. “I’m so sorry, Richard.”

The writer let out some of his pent-up fear by telling his mother in great detail about everything that they’d learned in the hospital, from the general health of the boys to the details of their captivity. Martha made appropriately soothing sounds as he spoke in a voice that cracked more than he’d have liked. He finished with Randy’s refusal to return Kevin to an adult. 

“That’s horrible news,” she said. “He must be devastated.”

“He doesn’t know yet,” said Castle. “I’m going to let the good doctor face the repercussions of his decision for that one.”

“But he can make Javier big again?”

“It sounds like it,” replied Castle. “Mother, what are we going to do?”

“What you had planned to do if the witches never found a way to undo the curse,” Martha replied matter-of-factly. “You’ll keep Kevin and bring him up again as if he was your own son. You have access to best doctors and hospitals to get him the help that he needs. Maybe, after a few months or years, Dr. Bellefonte will feel confident enough to rethink his decisions to not undo Kevin’s curse.”

“What about Javier?”

“Well, I suppose he’ll probably go back to work with Katherine. I’m sure he’ll want to help take care of his partner, too. Between the three of you, I think you can figure out how to raise one cute little boy. How old is he now?”

“Nine,” said Castle. He felt a little better. “How can you be so rational?”

“I get to go shopping again,” teased the redheaded woman. “And Alexis will finally have the sibling she’s always wanted. Better late than never, I suppose.”

“Since when has Alexis wanted a sibling?” Castle was convinced that his daughter liked having his undivided attention. 

Martha brushed off his question. “How is everyone else doing?”

“As well as they can. I’m the only one awake right now. We’re just waiting for the results of Kevin’s test.”

“Why don’t you head back to your hotel and get a few hours of real sleep and take a long shower,” suggested Martha. “You’ll feel better.”

“I’ll think about it.” He didn’t have the heart to leave his little family alone. 

“Okay,” said Martha doubtfully. “Keep me updated. The contractors have nearly finished replacing all of your windows and the door. I’ll probably head back to the city tonight unless you need me in Southampton for any reason.”

“No, I think that’s fine. Thank you, Mother.”

“You’re welcome, kiddo.”

Castle ended the call and slipped his phone into his pocket. A shower and nap did sound heavenly. Could he justify leaving Kate and the kids by themselves? Would Kate let herself be dragged away from her partners?

Regardless, Castle wasn’t ready to be parted from his boys yet, anyway. With a heavy countenance and a strong desire for some night-time sleep aid, Castle trudged back into the hospital room.

_to be continued…_  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.  
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art: lsmwalls.tumblr.com/image/58939397473


	46. Second Wednesday Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein there's a tiny bit of good news...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Forty-Six

The Tylenol PM did its job and Beckett slept soundly for the first time in days. She awoke with a yawn. She felt like she could probably sleep some more, but the memory of that morning burned through the fuzziness in her mind. With another wide yawn, she lifted her arm from around her still slumbering partner and peered at the crystal face of her father’s old watch. To her surprise, it was nearly four o’clock. She’d slept the entire day away. 

The lights in the small hospital room were off. In front of her, on the uncomfortable couch, was Castle. He had his head squashed against one arm rest and his knees bent over the other. She would have thought he’d be snoring, but his rest was quiet for now. 

Behind her, Javier dozed on his bed. Beckett carefully disentangled herself from Kevin so she could slide off the bed and check on Javier. The Hispanic detective woke quickly when she brushed her knuckles over his cheek. “Hi, sweetie. Did you sleep all right?”

“Mmhm. Can we go home now?”

“Soon, I hope,” she replied. Castle’s phone rested on the stiff mattress next to Javier’s pillow. Beckett picked it up and swiped her hand over the screen. A paused Angry Birds game was the first application to pop up. “We were so disorganized when we left Castle’s house,” she said with a short laugh. “We didn’t even bring a change of clothes for ourselves, let alone yours and Kevin’s phones.”

“It’s okay,” said Javier. “Did you find our badges in the house?”

“Yes, Castle found them,” said Beckett. She couldn’t resist brushing her fingers through Javier’s hair to smooth down the short locks. 

Javier reached up to wrap his little fingers around hers. “How are you doing, Beckett?”

Beckett scolded herself for forgetting that her partner wasn’t actually a little kid and had a grown-up concern for the well-being of others, not just himself. “Fine,” she said quickly. “I’m so glad to have you both back.” She wished then that he was bigger. Grown Up Javier gave very good hugs. She consoled herself with the thought that soon enough, her partners would be big again and she could get her hug then. 

There was a short knock on the doorframe to announce the arrival of Dr. DeAngelo. The expression on his face wasn’t giving anything away. She reached over to squeeze Javier’s hand. 

“Good afternoon,” said the medical doctor. He smiled warmly. “I hoped you’d wake up before my shift ended.”

“Me too,” said Beckett. “Are the lab results back yet?”

“They are,” said Dr. DeAngelo. “Do you want to wake your boyfriend before I give you the news?”

“Tell us and then I’ll wake up Castle so you can tell him,” said the detective. 

Dr. DeAngelo chuckled. “How about I just tell you and then you can give the others the good news?”

“Good news?” asked Javier hesitantly. 

“Yes,” said the older man. “There were no blast cells in the bone marrow samples. Kevin does not have leukemia.” He let Beckett and Javier have a minute to hug each other in celebration. Beckett landed a large, wet kiss on her partner’s cheek. Javier endured the display of affection without complaint. His eyes were shining with relief.

Beckett turned back to the doctor, who looked pleased to have been able to deliver mostly good news to the little family that had already been through so much in the past few days. She could tell, though, that he had more to tell them. “If not cancer, then what’s wrong with him?”

Dr. DeAngelo took a step forward to offer Beckett the small pamphlet he’d brought into the room with him. “Given the recent trauma he’s been through and what Javier has told us about his cousin’s symptoms while they were missing, the most probable cause of Kevin’s low blood counts is a condition called Hemolytic Anemia. It’s caused by physical damage to red blood cell membranes, sometimes from something as simple as strenuous activity. It’s not uncommon to see marathon runners suffering from this condition. It could also account for the Thrombocytopenia. Likewise, given his poor diet and the dehydration, the immature white blood cells are a result of his body being overstressed and unable to cope with the situation. Now that he’s safe, it should be a downhill journey from here.”

“Is the Hemolytic Anemia permanent?” asked Beckett. She handed the pamphlet to Javier so he could look at the cartoonish depictions of the illness and read the short blurbs.

“No,” replied Dr. DeAngelo. “It’s a condition that will fix itself if the membranes are allowed to heal. We can augment the healing with a blood transfusion or steroid therapy.”

“How long will that take?”

“It depends on each patient,” said the doctor. “However, you don’t have to be in the hospital for all of that. Javier here is already fit to be discharged. If Kevin’s fever breaks, you can take him home, too. He will need follow-up appointments in New York, however.”

“Of course,” said Beckett. Her excitement at being able to take the boys back to the city sooner than later had her feeling like she could do a series of cartwheels. The final countdown had started. In no time at all, it would be as if this awful curse and everything else had never happened. 

“Let me see how the little guy is doing.” Dr. DeAngelo moved to the side of Kevin’s bed. Beckett helped him wake up the blond while Javier jumped off of his bed to run over and excitedly shake Castle awake. The writer startled to full consciousness in a mild panic. His annoyance at Javier for the rude awakening was quickly vanquished as the boy hurriedly told him that Kevin was indeed cancer-free. 

Kevin, thanks to his grogginess, took the news much more calmly. He let the doctor stick the thermometer in his ear without protest. Beckett worked some of the tangles out of his hair as Dr. DeAngelo next peeled back one of the bandages covering the cuts on Kevin’s back. “His temperature is down to 99.2 and his back looks less red,” said the doctor. “I want to keep him here for a couple more hours to see if we can’t get his temperature all the way back down to normal. I’ll also get his first round of medication ordered.” The doctor patted Kevin’s shoulder, making sure to avoid hitting any injuries. 

“Thank you,” said Beckett. She didn’t care that the man was simply reporting facts to them. She was willing to give him all of the credit for Kevin’s miraculous “recovery” if it meant they didn’t have to stay in this awful place much longer.

Dr. DeAngelo took his leave, promising to send in a nurse shortly with more information on the follow-up treatment for each of the boys. Beckett threw herself into Castle’s arms and let out a few tears of joy. He hugged her tightly in return. By the way his arms held her securely, she could tell that there was something preventing him from completely feeling the happiness that filled the room. 

She pulled back to look at him questioningly. He shook his head shortly, indicating that he didn’t want to tell her what was bothering him in front of the boys. Her own spirits dampened somewhat. “Where’s Randy?”

“He and Agent Sorensen went back to the hotel a few hours ago,” replied the writer. “If we can really take the boys home in a couple hours, we should probably get them something besides an oversized sweatshirt to wear.”

“You’re right,” said Beckett. “The hospital has a little convenience store and clothing boutique on the first floor.”

“Will you two be all right for a few minutes while Kate and I go downstairs?” asked Castle. “I doubt the doctor would be too angry if you split one of these boxes of chocolate.” The writer picked up a gold-leaf box from the pile of Get-Well-Soon presents. He tossed it to Javier. 

“Yeah,” said Javier as he tore into the wrapping. “Just don’t get anything silly.” He placed the open box on Kevin’s bed. The blond slowly reached for one of the sweet treats, unable to resist the tempting smell of rich chocolate. 

Castle and Beckett walked towards the elevator hand-in-hand. Castle was uncharacteristically quiet. Beckett gave him his space, knowing that he would talk to her when he felt able. She leaned against his side as the metal box lowered them quickly to the first floor of the hospital. 

The clothing store was quite small and had an even more limited selection of apparel. In the boys’ sizes, they could choose from little shirts sporting various pro-Vermont slogans or the logo of the hospital. They had very plain khaki shorts or simply tailored jeans. Castle carelessly selected the least expensive size eleven t-shirt and short combo for Javier while Beckett detoured to the wall of plastic bags filled with undergarments. When she returned with little packets of Superman briefs and plastic flip-flops for each of her partners, Castle was idly browsing the size nine outfits. 

“What’s wrong, Castle?” she asked, unable to wonder any longer. “You can pick anything - it’s not like they’ll wear it more than once.” She smiled at her boyfriend to remind him that in a day or two, her partners would be adults again.

“Kate…”

“Yes?”

“When you were asleep, I spoke with Randy. He said that he thinks this Hemolytic Anemia, or whatever, was caused by the new spell.”

“He told me that, too.”

Castle took a deep breath. “He also told me that he won’t break the curse on Kevin.”

“Why not?” Beckett’s heart beat more quickly.

“He said it’s too much magic and Kevin’s body can’t handle it right now. He thinks Javier can survive the return to normalcy, but he won’t even try for Kevin.” 

“Oh my god,” said Beckett. She covered her mouth with her trembling hand. “Does Kevin know?”

“No. I’m just now telling you. Oh, I told Martha, too. I want Randy to tell Javier and Kevin. I don’t have the stomach for it.”

“Me either,” said Beckett. She lifted her hand from her mouth to rub her forehead. “Shit.” She tried to think of anything she could say to the doctor to get him to change his mind. “Maybe Bianca could do it?”

“I get the impression she’d rather they stay small, regardless,” said Castle sardonically. “I can understand his hesitation. I definitely don’t want anything else awful to happen to the poor guy. I just feel so bad for him.”

“I know,” said Beckett. “They want to be big again so much.”

“I’m sorry,” said Castle in a low voice. “I’m sorry for everything.”

“Me too.” Beckett accepted Castle’s hug and slow kiss, not caring that the person tending to the cash register or the few other patrons of the store could easily see them. They both needed this. 

When they returned to the hospital room, bearing new outfits and underwear for the boys, they found Nurse Renee changing the bandages on Kevin’s back. Javier sported fresh white wraps on his feet and was once more in just his hospital gown. The pullover was hastily folded at the foot of the bed. 

“What did you get?” asked Javier. He tried to peer into the plastic bag that Beckett held.

“All they had was My Little Pony,” said the lead detective with a perfectly straight face. Despite her expertly delivered line, Javier didn’t believe her for one second. He gave her a bored look and stole the whole bag. She could tell from his expression that what she and Castle had managed to get wasn’t much better. 

“Do you need help changing?” asked Castle.

“I got it,” replied Javier. He took the larger outfit into the private bathroom.

“Don’t lock the door,” instructed the writer. Javier rolled his eyes before closing the door. Beckett found herself listening along with Castle. There was no sound of a lock engaging. 

“How does his back look?” asked Beckett. She walked over to Kevin, who was seated on the edge of the bed with his bare legs hanging over the edge. She pulled him into a one-armed hugged. 

“It’s improving slowly,” said the nurse. “I put together a packet of instructions on how to care for the boys’ wounds. Dr. DeAngelo also provided more information on Kevin’s anemia. If you ever feel unable to properly take care of him, you can always give us a call here. I’m sure your family doctor will also be able to help you.”

“Thanks,” said Beckett. She cringed at the size of the stack of papers waiting on the small table by the bathroom door. 

“Of course. I’ll be back in a little bit to check on Kevin’s temperature.” Beckett nodded and the nurse departed. 

“Do you want to change too, baby boy?” Beckett released her partner so he could look up at her. He nodded. “I can’t wait to get you into a bathtub. You could fry bacon with the amount of grease in your hair.” She smiled teasingly at the Irishman. Kevin self-consciously reached up to test the oiliness of his dark blond tresses. He made a face at the feeling. 

Beckett grabbed him under the arms so she could lift him to the ground. She was surprised at how much heavier he was. She was momentarily saddened by the knowledge that she wouldn’t be able to effortlessly carry him anymore, especially now that she knew he’d probably be small for a very long time. 

She obligingly turned her face away as she held up the blanket to give her partner privacy as he pulled on the new underwear and shorts. She was glad he wasn’t a stickler for washing clothes before wearing them for the first time. Beckett helped him pull the t-shirt over his head, pausing briefly to inspect the dark splotches of color that turned his torso into a mottled canvas. She knew that the bruises looked worse than they actually were, thanks to his low platelet count that made it difficult for his body to stop bleeding. Still, she felt her hatred for Rayford Bellefonte swell within her. 

“Did you eat any of this or did your piggy partner get it all?” asked Castle. He held the empty chocolate box up for Kevin to see.

“I had a few pieces,” said Kevin in a small voice. His little fingers curled around the rail at the side of his bed and his balance wavered slightly. Castle easily picked up the boy and set him back on the bed. Beckett was a little jealous. She knew she could lift sixty pounds. She just needed to get all of her strength back from the trying past few days.

“Look what Alexis got you.” Castle hefted up the huge teddy bear, which was just as tall and probably almost as heavy as the nine-year-old. Kevin eyed the monstrous toy warily as Castle sat it on the bed next to him. “I think we should name it Fenton.”

“Why?” Kevin scooted away when the bear started to topple towards him. Beckett reached out to push it back upright. 

“Why not?”

“I don’t think that’s a good name,” said the lead detective. “You are seriously not allowed to suggest any more names.”

Castle pouted. “Can the bear be named Xena?”

“No.” Beckett stuck her tongue out at Castle. “It’s a boy bear. See, his bowtie is blue.”

“Can you put it on the couch?” asked Kevin.

“Don’t you like it?” Castle lifted one of the giant paws and brushed the soft fabric across the boy’s cheek. 

“Castle, it’s bigger than he is,” said Beckett with a laugh. “You’re probably scaring him.”

“I’m not scared,” pouted Kevin. Nevertheless, he got his wish and Castle moved the bear over to the plastic couch. Despite its unnecessarily large size, the toy was well-made. Its fur was the incredibly soft polyester plush fabric that was perfect for cuddling. It had just the right amount of stuffing to make it huggable but not too unwieldy. Its face was sewn into a perpetually happy smile with huge brown eyes. Alexis had good taste in stuffed animals. 

Javier emerged from the bathroom. Castle pulled him away from the rest of the gifts with a light scolding about eating too much sugar and getting sick after starving for three days. Javier argued that he needed to eat more to make up for his forced diet. 

Beckett stepped to the side while her boys - all three of them - debated the nutritional value of milk chocolate. She pulled out her phone to call Lanie. The medical examiner had to be waiting with baited breath for the results of Kevin’s biopsy. Lanie had helped talk Beckett out of her panic earlier when the doctor had first given them the bad news. Lanie would also be happy to hear that they were bringing the boys back to New York in the morning. 

She had just hung up from the much more pleasant conversation with the medical examiner when Nurse Renee returned with Dr. DeAngelo. The doctor was happy enough with Kevin’s temperature of 98.9 to sign both of the boys’ discharge papers. Before letting them leave, however, he sat down with Beckett and Castle to walk them through the boys’ restricted diet and the steps for treating Kevin’s anemia. Beckett guiltily looked at the empty box of chocolate in the waste basket. 

“As soon as you get home, make an appointment with your pediatrician for a follow-up. If you send me the name and phone number, I’ll fax your doctor all of this information, too,” said Dr. DeAngelo. Beckett wondered if they could convince Randy to pose as Kevin’s doctor. While he practiced in fertility medicine, she thought he might have a certification in pediatrics. 

The steroids came in a liquid format. Dr. DeAngelo explained how much and how often the nine-year-old needed to take the medication and what side-effects the adults should look out for. He also briefed them on what to expect from the anemia. Beckett sincerely hoped that her little boy didn’t have to suffer through the worst of the symptoms. Javier wanted to know if the medication was going to make his friend’s muscles huge and his voice super deep. Dr. DeAngelo laughed and said that Kevin probably wouldn’t be on the steroids long enough for either of those outcomes to occur. 

“There’s one other thing,” said the doctor. He smiled softly in the direction of the two boys as Javier informed his partner that even steroids couldn’t make the younger detective as manly as his partner. Kevin didn’t rise to the bait, willing to let Javier think what he wanted for the time being. 

“Yes?” asked Castle when the doctor turned back towards him and Beckett. 

“The children have been through a traumatic experience. You all have. I can treat their physical wounds, but there will be emotional and mental effects from the kidnapping, as well. I strongly recommend that you engage the expertise of a qualified counselor for both of them.”

The doctor was absolutely right, and he didn’t even know the half of it. Beckett took a second to look over at her partners herself. Javier was no stranger to post traumatic stress and Kevin had witnessed firsthand how much Beckett’s own sessions with a therapist had helped her recover from her shooting. The only issue would be finding someone that wouldn’t think they were all crazy when they brought up witches and retrogression spells. 

“We’ll do that, thank you,” said Castle. The doctor looked pleased with the writer’s response. The three full-size adults stood up and exchanged handshakes. Dr. DeAngelo bid farewell to his small patients and then took his leave so the group could prepare to check out. 

Finally, it was time to make the trek to the car. Javier was surprisingly amiable to the idea of being pushed out of the hospital in a wheelchair, despite the way he’d been bouncing around the room all afternoon. Kevin didn’t seem to have an opinion one way or the other. Castle asked if they could have a third chair for Fenton the bear, to which the nurse replied no and Javier agreed with Beckett that they weren’t going to call the bear Fenton. The hospital did loan them a cart to get all of the plants and gifts down to their car. Beckett doubted it would all fit in the trunk of the Charger. 

By some miracle, it did, though the unnamed bear had to sit in the back with the boys. She wanted to make an early start, so once they reached the hotel, they left almost everything in the car except for the new clothes and overnight bag with Castle’s and Beckett’s toiletries. Castle carried the weakened Kevin while Beckett held Javier’s hand. Despite knowing that Nora was gone for good and Rayford was securely imprisoned, she still found herself checking over her shoulder nervously as they crossed the uneven parking lot. 

She let them into the hotel room. It was technically their third night in the little two-bed room, but the first they’d actually sleep there. She couldn’t wait to lie down in the real bed. Before she could do that, she wanted to make good on her promise to thoroughly scrub down her partners and then herself. 

Randy graciously agreed to let Castle use his bathroom while Beckett dragged Kevin into theirs. She filled the tub with warm water and the hotel-supplied bubble bath. They were both too tired and emotionally drained to care about the boy’s modesty as Beckett stripped him down and pushed him into the bubble-topped water. Kevin silently endured having his hair washed twice and nearly every inch of his skin scrubbed until it shone. Beckett did take her time to avoid aggravating any of his injuries, though in some cases that was impossible. The youth sighed shakily as Beckett ran her fingertips gently over the ring of bruises at the front of his throat. 

Once she was satisfied that he was as clean as she could make him, Beckett helped him climb out of the tub and wrapped him in one of the white hotel towels. While she let the tub drain away the darkened water, Kevin slowly dried himself. Beckett helped him into the new pajamas once he was only mildly damp. The Irishman looked more than ready to sleep by the time she led him back into the main room by the hand. 

Javier was missing. Beckett briefly panicked but then realized that Castle had probably retrieved him after finishing his own shower. She called over to Randy’s room to make sure. The doctor patiently confirmed that his bathroom was still being annexed and her friends would return shortly. Beckett felt a little silly, but not too silly to forgo making sure the door was tightly locked and the curtains fully drawn to cover the third story window before leaving Kevin alone in the main room so she could shower herself. 

The second time she emerged from the bathroom, once more feeling human now that her hair wasn’t sticking out in greasy spikes and her skin wasn’t hidden under a layer of grime, all of her boys were in the room. Castle had claimed the bed by the window, leaving the two shrunken detectives on the second. Kevin was already fast asleep and Javier looked not far off. Beckett kissed them each good-night and then happily crawled into bed next to her lover.

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.  
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art: lsmwalls.tumblr.com/image/58939397473


	47. Second Thursday Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the group heads back to New York...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Forty-Seven

Kevin opened his eyes slowly as the sound of hushed movement finally penetrated his sleep. The room was mostly dark, though the rising sun pumped enough light into the room for the shrunken detective to see Castle and Beckett seated at the small table nursing their morning drinks. The smell of coffee was heavy in the air. Behind him, with one arm thrown over his waist and breath tickling the back of Kevin’s neck, was Javier. His partner still slept soundly.

He twisted around cautiously, though the movement still pulled at his many bruises and his sore back. The clock on the small nightstand between the beds showed that it was a little after seven. The adults noticed him moving. “Good morning, baby boy,” called Beckett softly. 

Instead of answering, he slid out of Javier’s loose hold and off of the bed. A wave of dizziness washed over him. He braced himself against the edge of the bed until the room stopped spinning. He refused to feel sorry for himself. He might have come out of their abduction worse off than Javier, but the important thing was that they were both free and back with their friends. Not only that, he’d gladly take the light-headedness and lingering nausea if it meant Javier didn’t have to suffer from it. 

With no small degree of concentration, Kevin made his way down the narrow space between the beds, keeping one hand on the mussed bedding in case he got dizzy again. He had to rely on his own balance to cross the few feet between the foot of the bed and Castle’s outstretched hands. The writer pulled the younger male up onto his lap and subtly pressed the back of his hand against Kevin’s forehead. The burn that had bothered him for most of the previous day was gone, so Kevin doubted Castle would find a fever. 

“Did you sleep okay?” asked Beckett. The smell of their coffee, a scent which once reminded Kevin of warmth and good friends, now made his stomach hurt. 

“Okay,” he replied. The short trip had sapped most of his recouped energy. He thought back to his and Javier’s brief escape from Bellefonte and how badly his joints had ached and his muscles had cramped. He felt a hundred times better than he had then, but that wasn’t saying much. He was determined, however, to put on a strong front so his friends didn’t worry unnecessarily about him. 

“Do you want to eat something?” asked Castle. 

“’M good,” he mumbled. He just wanted to be held for now. He briefly wondered if Castle and Beckett would still be willing to cuddle with him now that he was no longer the cute little four-year-old and their relief at having him back from Bellefonte was wearing off. 

“As soon as Javier wakes up, we’ll start back for New York,” said Beckett. “Randy said he’d go back to the city with the FBI since he needs to take care of stuff concerning his mother and brother. I guess Bianca is going to bring his car back from Southampton.”

It took the detective longer than it should have to deduce that the witch had driven to Castle’s summer home to help look for the missing boys and then carpooled up to Vermont when they’d narrowed the search down to the Green Mountain National Forest. “How far away are we?”

“About four and a half hours,” said Castle. His chest rumbled pleasantly when he spoke. “We can stop as often as we need, though.”

“Can we skip the car seats now?”

Beckett and Castle both laughed. “Yes, I think you’re big enough now to ride without the seat,” said Beckett. 

“I hope I can get my money back. I had them less than thirty days.”

“I’m sure it won’t break your budget if you can’t return them,” teased Beckett. 

“I’ll pay you back for the stupid car seat,” offered Kevin. And the clothes, the food, the hospital bills… Now he really felt queasy. He forced himself to stop thinking about how much debt he’d accrued in less than two weeks. Castle was a pretty nice guy. Maybe he’d let the detective repay him in installments over the next thirty years.

“We’ll talk about that later,” said Castle. Kevin knew that the writer would insist that he and Javier didn’t owe him anything, but if Kevin was feeling too proud to mooch off their rich friend, then Javier would definitely hate the idea. 

The conversation turned down a rabbit hole from there. Kevin’s mind drifted as he half-listed to the couple debate which route to take back to Manhattan. Even Castle’s overly excited demand that Beckett not try to wreck the car again didn’t pull him back from the edge of sleep. It wasn’t until Beckett decided that she couldn’t sit idly anymore and Javier could sleep in the car that Castle jostled him enough to bring him back to full awareness. 

Javier grumbled about the early hour and steadfastly refused to do more than sleepwalk through Beckett’s orders to use the restroom one last time and put on his sandals for the short walk to the car. In the hallway, the Hispanic detective almost managed to fall asleep leaning against the blandly decorated wall while their partner informed Agent Sorensen and the younger Bellefonte brother that they were departing for New York. Kevin braced himself against the wall, too, but he was trying to counteract the nauseating spin-cycle that the hotel had mysteriously entered. 

His charade was less convincing than he’d thought. Castle handed off the duffel bag with their combined possessions to Beckett and knelt down in front of the Irishman. When he felt better, Kevin would be sure to ask Castle how he managed to create the illusion that there was more than one best-selling author in the hallway. The writer’s hand felt cool when he pressed the back of it against Kevin’s cheek again. 

“He okay?” asked Beckett worriedly. Javier’s dark eyes fluttered open at the question to see what had drawn the concern of the bigger members of their team. His expression confused Kevin, but he was also unsure as to why the hotel’s decorator hadn’t realized that rippling and wavy carpet would make the hallway difficult to navigate. It made about as much sense as Javier’s glossy eyes and protruding lower lip. 

“Warm again,” said Castle. Kevin agreed. It was unnecessary to turn up the heat so high in the summer. It was summer, right? It seemed that he’d seen fireworks recently. He was pretty sure fireworks occurred mainly in the summer. And at New Year’s. But it was cold at New Years and it was really hot right now. 

“Do we need to go back to the hospital?” Beckett’s expression kind of mirrored Javier’s, but hers was less intense. Kevin wanted to tell her that he didn’t like hospitals, but keeping his mouth shut was the only thing keeping his stomach where it belonged. 

“The doctor said to expect intermittent fevers and dizziness,” replied Castle. “Maybe you should get Randy.”

Beckett moved with superhero speed to one of the doors in the opposite wall. Watching her nearly made Kevin lose his balance. It was better to just stare at the floor, or at the many Castles who were all looking at him with identical frowns. Javier moved to stand close by his side. Just the proximity of his partner made Kevin feel a little more grounded. Javier was good at that kind of stuff. 

The vaguely familiar visage of the doctor witch materialized in front of Kevin, replacing the Castles. He was talking very quickly, making it difficult to understand his questions. At least Beckett was able to keep up, since the inquiries seemed to be directed at her, anyway. The Castles converged back into one person and enthusiastically joined the rushed conversation between Beckett and the witch. Kevin was pretty sure he didn’t like witches. They’re the ones who made him feel like this. 

“All right,” said Castle eventually. “Let’s go.” Kevin hoped they hadn’t decided to go back to the hospital. He liked being poked and prodded even less than he liked witches. 

“Not good,” he whimpered when Castle picked him up without warning and the world flipped upside down and back jarringly. By some miracle, he managed to not get sick. Closing his eyes helped block out the rapidly spinning green and white wallpaper, but did nothing to stop Castle from dipping and twirling and spinning viciously. Didn’t he know that Kevin was already fighting a losing battle with his gag reflex?

“Try to get him to drink the Pedialyte and let him sleep,” said the doctor witch. “If you can get him to eat something light, it will help raise his blood-sugar and scale back some of his symptoms.”

“If you can give us five minutes, we can leave as well and follow you back to the city,” said Agent Sorensen. Where did he come from? Maybe his superhero power was walking through walls or teleporting. “That way, if you need help immediately, we’ll be right there.”

“Once he falls asleep again, there shouldn’t be anything to worry about,” said Bellefonte. 

“Can’t you do something?” asked Javier with a sniffle. That would stink for his partner if he got a cold right now. Or maybe he had allergies. His eyes were watery, too. Was Javier allergic to anything besides strawberries?

“If I do, it will only make things worse.”

Beckett reached down for Javier’s hand and tugged him down the hall. Kevin could barely see the two men return to their rooms as Castle followed his girlfriend. With a soft sigh, he closed his eyes again.

xXx

The bear that no-one would let him name Fenton ended up serving a greater purpose than just looking cute and taking up an inordinate amount of space in the back seat of the Charger. When shoved against the passenger side door, its leg made for a soft pillow and its head served as a rather effective sun screen. Castle situated the younger detective across the back bench seat and then squeezed in next to him.

“I want to sit in the back, too,” said Javier. 

“Ride up front with me,” said Kate. She dumped the duffel bag in the trunk and slammed the lid. Javier pouted tragically as he slid into the front passenger seat. His sadness turned to annoyance when Kate reached across him to tug on the seatbelt. 

“I can do it,” he insisted. 

“You’re doing it too slowly,” replied the lead detective. She stole a kiss off of the boy’s cheek as she straightened back into her own seat. “You okay, Castle?”

“Well, you haven’t turned on the ignition yet, so yes…”

“Shut up.” Kate stuck her tongue out at the rearview mirror, making sure that the writer would catch her reflection. 

“Javi, you can lean your seat back a little,” suggested Castle. With Kevin lying down, he wouldn’t be bothered by the seat reclining above him. If the bear cared, it couldn’t say anything about it since its mouth was nothing more than a line of pink stitches. 

“I’m not tired anymore.”

“That’s fine. If you get sleepy, put the seat down.”

“I’m not going to get sleepy, Beckett,” said Javier with a long-suffering sigh. 

“We’ll see about that.”

True to her word, Javier only lasted about forty minutes into the four and a half hour drive. Kevin had fallen asleep before the car even made it out of the hotel’s parking lot, so it was a peaceful drive. From Castle’s vantage point, he could easily watch both of his boys nap. He wasn’t sure what was harder to accept: that he finally had them back or that they’d ever been missing in the first place. The past four days blurred together in a sequence of nightmarish memories that he’d prefer to repress sooner than later. 

It wasn’t meant to be. He noticed Kate looking over at the passenger seat and into the back more often than was necessary for checking one’s blind spots. Hoping to distract both of them, he asked, “What do you think will happen to the evil Bellefonte brother?”

Kate glanced nervously at the eleven-year-old, making sure the softly spoken question hadn’t woken him. Javier continued to sleep soundly, his pink lips parted slightly and his thick lashes fluttering minutely as he dreamed. “I intend to press for every charge I can throw at him,” she replied. “If there’s any good news in all of this, it’s that he’ll probably go away for life even without the kidnapping and trafficking charges.”

Besides the blatant murder of Winston Kennedy at the funeral home, Bellefonte One had been busy collecting bodies in multiple states. There was the decomposed body in the lean-to that the witch would have to answer for, as well as the partial remains in the shallow graves at the edge of his driveway. The Rutland ME was still trying to determine the origin of the remains. Castle wondered if Nora required the organs of living humans to sustain her body, like a Wendigo. The idea made him shudder. 

Southampton Police Chief Brady was also a loose end that would need to be dealt with. Unfortunately, his role in the kidnapping would not go ignored by the FBI. The disgraced officer would definitely think it strange that Castle’s relations had been four and six on Sunday and were now nine and eleven. With the amount of bad blood between the Manhattan group and the Southampton Chief, Castle doubted that Brady would be willing to vouch for the couple when it came to the identity of the missing boys. Well, there was nothing he could do about it now. Castle hoped that his story-telling abilities were working when it came time to explain that little discrepancy. 

“It will probably take months for his case to go to trial,” said Castle. He could see Kate’s head bobbing over the back of her seat. “What if the prosecutor tries to get Javier to testify about the kidnapping?”

“I hope it doesn’t come to that,” said Kate. “I won’t have any of us take the stand unless it looks like Bellefonte is about to get away with murder.”

Castle’s brow furrowed as he looked out the window at the passing scenery. The cursed detectives both wanted to be big again so badly it probably hurt. Javier, especially, looked forward to returning to his adult life. Cases like Bellefonte’s took years to be sorted out in court and it would be even worse if the defense attorney tried to make an insanity plea. Javier had his heart set on being an adult again in no more than a day or two. There was no way Castle would ask him to wait until the trial was over on the off chance that he needed to tell his awful story to a group of jurors. 

Little Kevin was a different story. Castle abandoned looking out the window to glance down at the Irishman. The idea of raising another child didn’t bother the writer. He’d loved being Alexis’ father and Kevin would be equally smart and mature. He really was fortunate when it came to kids. Besides that, it sounded like Kate wanted babies. Castle could take advantage of the opportunity to dust off his parenting skills before the brood of mini-Castles arrived. 

Kate reached over to turn the radio up a few notches. The silence wasn’t awkward, but he knew she was still struggling with fatigue. He was, too. Given that their conversation had died out rather early on, he didn’t begrudge her the minor stimulus. 

The landscape morphed from trees and scattered fields to suburban dwellings and finally increasingly tall sky-scrapers. Castle pulled out his cell-phone and called his mother to let her know they’d be arriving soon. 

“How are the kids doing?” asked Martha. 

“They’re sleeping right now. I think we’ll get to enjoy a quiet afternoon and evening for once.” Castle reached over to brush away a bit of fuzz from the bear-who-won’t-be-named-Fenton that had landed on Kevin’s shoulder. While his hand was outstretched, Castle checked the boy’s temperature. He felt cooler than he had in the hotel hallway. 

“Eventually, I’m sure,” said the actress. 

“Why, what’s going on?” He could see Kate trying to catch his reflection in the rearview mirror. 

“Some of your friends have stopped by. I tried to tell them that you probably didn’t want any company, but they insist they’ll only stay for a few minutes.”

“Who’s there?”

“Well, Alexis for starters. Lanie stopped by on her lunch break.”

“That’s not so bad,” said Castle. 

“There, see,” said Martha. “Do you need me to get anything ready for Javier or Kevin?”

“There are clean sheets on the guest bed, right?”

“Yes, the room is ready for them.”

“That should do it, then.” Castle hung up with his mother. Kate said his name in a questioning tone. “Mother says that Lanie and Alexis are at the house. They want to see the kids, but they promised to not stay too long.”

“Good, we can get some help carrying all of this stuff upstairs.”

Kate expertly navigated the busy streets near Castle’s loft and found a decent parking spot just around the corner. She nudged Javier’s shoulder until her Hispanic partner yawned widely. He sat up slowly, blinking against the midday sun as he tried to gauge his surroundings. 

“Where are we?”

“Home,” said Kate with a fond smile. “Not sleepy, huh?”

“You’re the one who woke me up at an ungodly hour,” complained Javier. He leaned over so he could see around his seat. Castle was gently waking the younger detective. “Is he better?”

“He feels less feverish,” replied Castle. Kevin finally opened his blue eyes and looked tiredly at the writer. Castle was relieved to see that he looked much more alert and focused than he had back at the hotel. Bellefonte Two was right - the boy had needed to sleep and eat. “Rise and shine, kiddo.”

They left most of the stuff in the car with the exception of the boys’ medical supplies. Castle momentarily forgot that he couldn’t just hoist Kevin up onto his hip with one arm anymore. He settled for enfolding the Irishman’s small hand in his own and setting a slow, steady pace down the sidewalk and into his lobby. Javier managed to elude Kate and walked freely next to his partner, though both full-size adults kept a close eye on him. Castle wondered how long it would take for the paranoia to wear off and for them to be able to go outside without suspecting that everyone wanted to take the children away. 

In the elevator, Castle wrapped his arm around Kevin’s shoulders as the child leaned heavily against his side. Javier shifted impatiently from his toes to his heels. In the confined space of the elevator, he hadn’t been able to avoid Kate’s possessive desire to hold on to her cursed partner until they were safely locked in Castle’s loft. 

The door to the loft was unlocked since Martha and Alexis were home and expecting them. Castle entered first and stopped short when he saw who else had stopped by to see the boys. Kevin made a small sound of surprise and tried to hide behind the writer.

“Welcome home, dear,” said Martha. Her smile looked a little guilty. “Like I said, they promised to not stay very long.”

“Right,” said Castle, sounding a bit strangled. He leaned down to accept a brief kiss on the cheek from the older woman. He then offered a strained smile to the group that was waiting anxiously in the open living room. Small party was a fair description, too. He could see some Mylar balloons in the corner and a few wrapped package on the dining room table. “Hi, everyone.”

“I’m so glad you’re all right, Dad,” said Alexis. She broke off from the bunch and came over to throw her arms around the writer’s neck. Castle returned the hug with his free arm, taking a moment to deeply inhale the rosy scent of her hair. Alexis pulled away and looked worriedly at the grubby bandage on his forehead. “You are all right, aren’t you?”

“Right as rain,” he replied. 

Kate and Javier had moved into the loft around the stopped author. Javier shook Kate off and made a beeline for his favorite guest. Lanie didn’t have to kneel down anymore to catch the Hispanic detective in a crushing hug. She rested her chin on top of his head and squeezed her eyes shut as she held him tightly. Captain Victoria Gates waited impatiently for her turn to see the eleven-year-old. Detective Demming was near the counter, leaning against the kitchen island. His hands were no longer wrapped in soft linen. 

“Um, wow,” said Kate out of the corner of her mouth as she watched Gates tug Javier away from Lanie and guide the ex-couple over to the couch. Javier’s cheeks were slightly pink as he stood before his boss and shyly responded to her questions. “I thought it was only supposed to be Lanie and Alexis.” Castle knew that Kate was still marginally irked at the Captain for alerting the FBI to the disappearance. 

“Me too.”

Martha ignored their sideways glances and motioned toward the living room. “Go have a seat, Katherine. Richard, make your rounds so everyone can leave.” She leaned down slightly so she could look at Kevin head on. “Give me a hug, kiddo, and then you can go hide.” Kevin stepped hesitantly into her embrace. The actress mercifully only made him endure the affection for a second or two. He next accepted a hug from Alexis and thanked her for the oversized bear. 

“Do you like it?” she asked hopefully. It was impossible to say anything that would darken the light in her eyes. Kevin nodded solemnly.

“He’s terrified of it,” said Castle with a laugh. “Alexis, it’s bigger than he is.”

“I’m not scared,” insisted Kevin, looking up at the writer disdainfully. 

“Come on, babe. Gates is done with Javier and she’s giving you the get-over-here-right-now look,” said Kate. She caught Kevin’s hand and led the way to the wide couch. The lead detective snagged a throw on the way. She settled into the corner of the L-shaped lounge and opened the lap blanket. Kevin pulled himself onto the couch and tucked himself between her and the back cushions. Kate made sure his bare toes were covered as his knees were bent over her lap. He did his best to look as unapproachable as possible by huddling against his partner and pulling the throw over his shoulder. Unfortunately, none of the well-wishers were deterred. 

“Dad?”

“Yes, angel?”

“Gram told me about Kevin’s illness,” said Alexis in a low voice. “Do we really get to keep him?”

“If he wants to stay with us,” said Castle. He took a deep breath. “You’re still okay with having a little brother?”

“Of course. I mean, I’m probably going to have younger siblings sooner than later anyway, right?”

“Hopefully, but they won’t have very fun names.” Alexis grinned at his exaggerated pout. 

“At least we know the knock to the head didn’t affect your strange mind,” she teased. 

“Oh, that’s still yet to be seen.” Castle knew how much Alexis worried for his safety now that he spent so much time with the NYPD. Besides Martha, they were all each other had had for a long time. He was proud of her for putting on a brave face and joking with him about the attack. There would be enough time for seriousness in the near future. “Lex?”

“Hm?”

“We haven’t told Kevin yet, or Javier. I just…”

“It’s okay, Dad. I won’t say anything,” promised Alexis. She hugged him again. “Gram made cupcakes. Want one?”

“Sounds heavenly.” Father and daughter made their way to the island. Castle needed refreshments before approaching his guests.

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.  
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art: [_Spellbound_ Cover Art](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1048044)
> 
> Sorry for the confusion with the mislabeling of the last chapter. Hopefully no one was jarred too badly.


	48. Second Thursday Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the bear finally gets a name...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Forty-Eight

Beckett understood that her friends and colleagues were eager to see that Kevin and Javier were mostly okay after their ordeal. Still, she was tired and wanted nothing more than to relax with her boyfriend and partners. Kevin and Javier, who had crawled up next to her once she’d settled in with Kevin, also wanted to be out of the spotlight. Right now, they timidly returned the unwavering stares from Lanie, Captain Gates, and Demming. 

“So, your main suspect, Rayford Bellefonte, cast another spell on Ryan and Esposito?” Gates had her reading glasses on the tip of her nose as she looked back and forth between her cursed detectives. 

“Yes, sir,” replied Beckett. “I guess he thought he could get more for them if they were bigger.” Castle had briefly summarized Javier’s account of their kidnapping to her. The idea that more people than just Greg Hanson wanted to make a profit off of her partners made her blood boil. 

“Ugh,” said Lanie disgustedly. “Is that man still being held in Vermont? Because I’d like to pay him a visit and give him a nice fat slug across the face.”

“Get in line, sister,” said Javier. “The doctor witch said he could make us big again. After that, we’ll go visit him together.”

“Deal,” agreed Lanie. 

“Randy Bellefonte said he could undo the curse?” asked Demming. Unlike the two females, he was giving the tired trio some breathing room by sitting in a side chair. Lanie was seated next to Javier and Gates perched on the foot of the lounge. 

“Yes,” said Beckett. She pressed her lips to the top of Kevin’s head and left her head bowed until she could speak again without giving away her emotions. Lanie and Demming were distracted by Javier’s increasingly animated discourse on how he was going to be an adult again tomorrow and about everything he would do once he was full-size. Captain Gates, on the other hand, read the misery in her body language. The older woman frowned and pulled off her glasses so they dangled from a decorative chain around her neck. 

“I’ll certainly be glad to have my staff back to full strength,” said Gates. She patted Kevin’s knee. “Beckett, I had something made up while you were in Vermont. I hope you don’t have to use it, but it’s there just in case.”

Curiosity piqued, Beckett asked what it was. Gates pulled a fat manila envelope from her briefcase and handed it to the detective. “Now, they won’t hold up forever under close scrutiny, but they should prove useful in everyday situations. Mrs. Rodgers has copies of everything. She helped me match the details to the story you’re using to explain the children. They weren’t ready ‘til this morning so I had time to fix the dates.”

Beckett awkwardly drew one folder out of the envelope, hampered a bit by Kevin’s position and Javier’s weight against her left side. She set the folder in her lap and opened it with one hand. The first document was a very real and official looking birth certificate for Kevin Raley, born in 2003. She continued turning the pages to find the dossier of a criminal record for a Joe and Belinda Raley and the court order for the removal of Kevin from their home. Next were papers assigning temporary guardianship to Martha Rodgers, the boy’s great aunt. Finally, at the back, were notarized adoption papers, signed by the retired actress.

“We thought it would be best if yours and Castle’s names weren’t on the documents,” said Gates. “Too many curious reporters or fans might try looking into the adoption and the children would never get a moment’s peace.”

“That was good thinking,” said Beckett. She wiped a tear off her cheek and smiled wetly at her skipper. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You have enough to deal with as it is. Now you can have some proof to your story.” Beckett nodded. She had no idea how Gates had managed to come up with the forged documents so quickly, especially the adoption papers, but she wasn’t going to question the woman’s methods. This was a huge burden lifted from the detective’s shoulders. While the papers explained little Kevin, they still needed to come up with a believable excuse for Detective Ryan’s sudden resignation from the NYPD. That was something they could deal with later. Despite Randy’s reservations, she refused to give up hope for her younger partner returning to normal.

“Does this mean I don’t have to stay with you and Castle anymore?” asked Kevin. He tugged on the signature page of his adoption papers and idly scanned the last paragraph. 

“What, you don’t want to?” asked Beckett. 

“Not if you’re going to make kissy-faces at each other all of the time.”

“The only person I want to make kissy-faces at right now is you,” Beckett said tauntingly. She tipped his chin up so she could pepper his nose, forehead, and cheeks with little chaste kisses. Kevin pushed her hand away and hid his face against her shoulder, his shoulders bouncing slightly with his giggles. By how tightly his arms were wrapped around her torso, Beckett knew that he didn’t want to be anywhere else at the moment besides with her. 

“Beckett.”

The detective turned her head to look expectantly at her older partner. Javier regarded her seriously and tapped on his right cheek with his index finger. She obligingly planted a loud smacker where he indicated and couldn’t help laughing when his cheeks colored. He played it off as coolly as he could.

“You better take advantage of my being small while you can,” he said. “You won’t be able to express your affection for me so openly when I’m big again. It would be unprofessional.”

“What do you think, Captain Gates? Can I land a big one on him in the middle of the precinct when he comes back to work?”

“Only so long as you have a captive audience,” said the older woman with a wink. 

“Oh, you think you’re such a ladies’ man, _chico_ , but I have news for you…” Lanie nudged her ex-boyfriend in the side. 

“ _Lanie_.” Javier pouted at the ME. “You can’t say things like that in front of Demming.” 

“I still think you’re plenty macho, Esposito,” joked the robbery detective. “Though, Thorton definitely had more charm.”

“Hey now, I’m going to be big again tomorrow and we’ll see what’s more impressive: being macho or charming.” 

“He’s not scared of you, you big marshmallow,” teased Lanie. She poked Javier in the stomach. 

“Beckett, defend my honor.” Javier tried to scoot into his partner’s seat but Beckett didn’t want to share. She pushed him back towards Lanie. 

“You cannot both sit on me at the same time,” she complained. “Castle will not appreciate it if you pancake me.”

“Who’s making Beckett pancakes?” asked the writer. He came to stand behind the couch, armed with a tumbler of medication and a plastic Gatorade bottle. “Alright, squirt, it’s time for your ‘roids.”

“Mr. Castle,” said Gates disapprovingly. The writer cringed apologetically as he held out the tumbler for Beckett to take.

“Well, I’m sure you guys are ready to relax in privacy,” said Demming. “I should get back to work, anyway. I’m glad to see you’re safe, guys.” He stood up and stretched. 

“Thank you, Tom,” said Beckett as she poured the small measure of medicine into Kevin’s mouth. The Irishman made a disgusted face as he swallowed. The lead detective looked up to smile at her colleague. “I’d get up, but…”

“Nonsense,” said Gates. She stood as well. “Take a couple days off, Beckett. We’ll manage without you, somehow.”

“Once Esposito’s back on the job, you can dump all of the backlog on him,” said Lanie. She laughed at her ex-boyfriend’s betrayed expression. “Good-bye, Javier. Kevin. Call me later, Kate.” Beckett nodded in agreement. 

“Thanks for everything, sir,” said Beckett as the captain smiled fondly at each of her cursed detectives. 

“Of course.” The three visitors walked out of the loft together, slipping into a conversation about a new case of which Beckett was completely unaware. She felt a brief pang of longing for her life to return to the way it was two weeks ago. She shrugged off the feeling and shifted into a slightly more comfortable position. Kevin sipped at his grape-flavored drink, trying to wash away the taste of his medication. Javier settled in next to her, only inches shy of sitting on her. She didn’t mind so much. At least this way she could close her eyes and still know that her little boys were with her.

Castle sank down into the soft leather next to Javier. He’d bribed Martha and Alexis into retrieving the plants and gifts from Beckett’s car while he nursed a supposed headache. Beckett wasn’t sure that an expensive bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon was typically what the doctor ordered to combat concussion induced aches, but she wasn’t going to complain. She took her glass from her boyfriend and took a deep drink from the glass. The fruity tang washed over her taste buds enticingly. Too much of this and she would definitely drift off to sleep. Castle appropriated the manila envelope and flipped through the files. His expression remained neutral as he investigated the boys’ fleshed out back-stories and the adoption papers. She wondered what he was thinking. 

Kevin started to squirm so Beckett grudgingly sat up to help him scoot off the couch. “Where are you going, baby boy?”

“Bathroom.”

“That’s a good sign,” said Castle. He poked Javier. “Go with him.”

“Why?” 

“Because I told you to, and until you’re actually full-size again, you have to do what I say.”

“I don’t think so,” argued the Hispanic detective. 

“Go with him in case he starts feeling dizzy again,” said Beckett. 

“I can go by myself,” said Kevin. He gave all three of them a dark look before turning and carefully making his way towards the hall that led to the half-bath. Javier followed him, amiable to the task now that it had been framed in the context of making sure his partner was okay. 

Beckett’s phone started to ring. It was Randy Bellefonte. She yawned as she hit the Talk button. “Beckett.” The conversation was short. Basically, the doctor was nearly finished for the day at the local FBI headquarters. He sounded nearly as tired as she felt, but he wanted to know if they were open to his stopping by to check on the kids. When he added that Bianca wanted to join him, Beckett understood why he was trying to set up an appointment she doubted he truly wanted to make. Nevertheless, she gave the man her permission.

Alexis and Martha finished hauling up the well-wishes and forming an attractive little jungle on the side table near the door. The bear was given a seat of honor in one of the wide armchairs before the fireplace. When Castle heard the boys making their way back from the restroom, he jumped up and moved the bear to sit directly beside Beckett. “What are you doing, Rick?” she asked suspiciously. 

“Watch this,” he said with an evil laugh. He took over the bear’s old seat in the armchair.

The shrunken detectives slowly made their way towards the grouping of furniture at a pace that wouldn’t push Kevin too hard. Beckett finally caught up with Castle’s play when her younger partner stopped about five steps away from her seat and took in the situation on the couch. His bright blue eyes slowly scanned the rest of the room, looking for an alternate seating arrangement. When he made the turn to head in Castle’s direction, who was grinning stupidly, Beckett stood up to grab him. “Nuh uh, baby boy, you’re mine tonight.” She stuck her tongue out at Castle as she pushed over the bear and reclaimed her seat. Kevin let her maneuver him back into his previous position, though he kept a wary eye on the stuffed animal.

Castle hid his chuckles poorly with his hand. Javier looked between the writer and the toy in confusion. Unable to figure out why the bear on the couch was so amusing to the author, he decided to confront the man directly. Castle let out a loud, “Oof!” as the eleven-year-old climbed on top of him. “You’re a little too big for this, Javi,” he said. 

“I wasn’t yesterday,” argued the detective. 

“Well, I felt sorry for you yesterday,” explained Castle. “Are you sure you want to grow up again? I’m definitely not interested cuddling with you when you’re thirty-six once more.” The two struggled to find a comfortable arrangement. After a few close calls with knees and elbows, Javier finally settled down comfortably against the writer’s chest. 

“We’re not cuddling,” Javier informed him. “I’m sitting on you for information.”

“Oh, that’s what cops call it, huh?”

“Yes, so start talking. What’s so funny?”

“Nothing’s funny. In fact, it’s rather tragic that poor Mr. Bear doesn’t have a name yet. Alexis, can you believe that they haven’t found a suitable moniker yet for your brilliant gift?”

The redheaded college student was struggling to contain her own smile. Like father, like daughter. Beckett squeezed her poor, tormented partner more tightly. Javier let his hard head drop back painfully against Castle’s collar bone. Castle retaliated by digging his fingers into the kid’s sides. Javier yelped and tried to scramble out of Castle’s reach but the writer was quicker and stronger. Gravity finally came to Javier’s aid and he landed on his hands and knees on the soft rug at the foot of the chair. He slumped to the floor and panted theatrically as he tried to regain his breath. Castle helped by using the eleven-year-old’s stomach as a footrest. 

To Javier’s dismay, the writer was impervious to his attempts to escape by tickling the underside of the man’s sock-covered feet. He finally gave up and let his arms flop to his sides. Castle continued the previous conversation as if he hadn’t just won a tickling war with a child. “My suggestions, Fenton and Xena, have already been shot down.”

“What wrong with Fenton?” asked Alexis. She looked at the bear appraisingly. 

“That was Kevin’s name when he was undercover with the Irish mob,” answered Javier. 

“Oh.”

“Why don’t you call it Paddington?” suggested Martha. 

“No, we need to think of an original name,” said Alexis. She chewed on her nail as she thought. 

“I know!” exclaimed Castle. “Let’s name him Honeymilk.”

“No,” said Kevin firmly. 

“That’s cute,” said Alexis. 

“I like it,” voted Beckett. 

“Really?” asked Javier skeptically. 

“He is the color of honey and milk,” said Martha. 

“It’s settled then,” announced Castle. “The ‘Ayes’ have it. Henceforth, Mr. Bear shall be known as Honeymilk.”

“You all suck,” mumbled Kevin. With his face buried in Beckett’s shirt, she was sure she was the only one who heard him. She laughed lightly and kissed the top of his rumpled hair. She followed the act with a wide yawn. She checked her watch. Randy had mentioned stopping by around four. It was nearing two o’clock now. There was plenty of time for a nap. 

“I think I’m going to lay down for a bit,” she said. “Javi, you need anything?”

“Help?” He couldn’t stop a short giggle from escaping when Castle pressed his toes into the boy’s side. 

“Anything that doesn’t require me bending down?” She nudged Kevin until he moved to give her room to stand. She stretched her arms over her head, giving Castle a quick glance at her flat belly. Distracted by his momentarily adult thoughts, he moved his feet enough to give Javier a chance to roll to safety. 

“Do you want company for your nap?” asked the writer. 

“Mm, I don’t know.” She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. Castle sat up a little straighter. Martha rolled her eyes and Alexis suddenly remembered that she had brought homework home with her. Javier made a face like he’d been sucking on a lemon. Kevin sniffled. “What’s wrong, babe?”

“Nothing, it’s just running,” he replied. “I need a Kleenex.” He sniffled again.

“It’s not running, it’s bleeding,” said Castle. He hurried to grab a wad of tissues before joining the two detectives at the couch. Kevin nearly went cross-eyed trying to see if the fluid dripping from his nose really was blood. Beckett cupped the back of his head and pushed him forward a little while pressing the tissues under his nose. The doctor had warned them that the nine-year-old would be prone to nosebleeds until his body recovered from the anemia. Still, she had a difficult time squashing down her worry. 

Castle reappeared next to her with a small bag of ice wrapped in a dishtowel. Beckett traded the bloody Kleenex for the cold towel, which she held against her partner’s tiny button nose. Kevin tugged on her arm until she pulled the towel away. “Can’t breathe,” he told her. 

“Sorry.” She’d accidentally covered his mouth as well as his nose. Castle helped her adjust the positioning of the towel so she could stop the bleeding without suffocating her partner in the process. Javier looked on worriedly. Kevin reached blindly for his partner. Javier caught the Irishman’s wandering hand and held it firmly. 

The prescribed ten minutes passed agonizingly slowly. Kevin’s little cheeks were turning red from the chill of the ice but he didn’t complain. She silently praised his bravery. Despite his initial tears over the possibility of having leukemia, he’d faced his new set of medical issues with a strong front. She didn’t want to think about how he’d react when Randy broke his bad news. 

When she finally pulled the messy towel away from his nose, the bleeding had stopped. Castle handed her some wipes and Beckett gently cleaned the boy’s face. “Okay?”

“I think so,” Kevin replied. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she scolded lightly. “This is all Rayford’s fault.”

“Here, I’ll take that,” offered Martha. She took the towel and mostly melted ice from Beckett. “Why don’t you both go lie down. Richard, can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Come on,” said Beckett. She reached for Kevin’s hand. “We’ll sleep for a bit and then you can have a bath. Randy and Bianca are coming over in a couple hours.” Conveniently, the boys were still dressed in the pajamas they’d slept in the night before since they had little else to wear in their new sizes. She’d probably have to take Javier by his apartment in the morning to pick up some of his adult clothes before the curse was broken. 

Javier predictably wanted to go with his partners, so Beckett detoured from the master bedroom to the small guest room. Beckett lay on her side at one edge of the bed and pulled Kevin into a loose embrace. Javier snuggled up on the other side of his partner. Beckett reached across the blond to clasp her older partner’s little hand. They were all asleep by the time Castle came to check on them after speaking to his mother. 

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.   
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art: [_Spellbound Cover Art_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1048044)


	49. Second Thursday Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the boys finally get the bad news...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Forty-Nine

Beckett’s nap and shower ran a little longer than she’d intended so she was just stepping out of the glass enclosure when Randy and Bianca arrived. Martha had made a quick trip to the store to pick up new pajama sets and outfits for each of the boys. Given that they weren’t planning to go anywhere for the rest of the evening, Castle had the boys change into the sleepwear. 

With her hair tied back in a wet ponytail and her light cotton shirt sticking to her damp skin, Beckett emerged from Castle’s bedroom to find her partners seated together at one end of the couch while Castle showed Randy his collection of first edition Sherlock Holmes novels and Bianca bothered Martha for some glassware. The doctor was still in the slacks and button down he’d been wearing that morning in Vermont. Bianca was once again impeccably dressed in an ivory pencil skirt and silk blouse. The female witch also carried a thermos of a lavender colored concoction that she was divvying up into half of a dozen glasses. Beckett decided to confront the white witch before she actually tried to offer the drink to anyone. 

“I’m glad to see you made it back from Southampton,” said the detective in greeting. 

“Thank you, dear,” replied the older woman. “My acquaintance is well on the way to a full recovery, so I decided to head home. With this whole fiasco with Randall’s family, the Council will likely hold numerous sessions.”

“About that…” Beckett wanted an explanation for Rayford’s incoherent babblings about Bianca taking away his powers. She found it difficult to believe he’d been back in Southampton while his mother and hostages were in Vermont. Obviously, Bianca didn’t have much trouble getting around, but why wouldn’t she tell them she was planning to make the trip to the national forest, too?

Bianca wasn’t interested in that conversation. She cut Beckett off by holding up a quarter-full glass of her lavender drink. “I know how you think, Katherine, so please, have a taste before I offer some to your friends.” Bianca raised her own glass and downed the shot-sized amount without preamble. She winked at the detective before brushing by, armed with two nearly full cups. Beckett cautiously sniffed the drink. She really had no idea what a magically tainted potion smelled like.

“It’s actually pretty good,” said Martha. She patted Beckett’s arm. “Your friend, Bianca, gave me a list of the ingredients. It’s all natural stuff, supposedly a homeopathic remedy for healing bumps and bruises more quickly. I don’t know about any of that, but I figure, it can’t hurt, right?”

“Unless we all wake up tomorrow as little kids,” said Beckett dryly. Martha shrugged before picking up her keys and informing the detective that she had plans with friends. Beckett carried her untested glass over to the couch where the witch had taken a seat next to the boys. “Bianca, you can’t give them anything magical. That’s why they were so sick when we found them.”

“I know, dear. Randall told me all about this sweet child’s dreadful reaction to Nora’s new spell.” Bianca smiled fondly at Kevin. The Irishman didn’t even bother to hide his unease at her proximity. “As I was telling Mr. Castle’s delightful mother, it’s nothing more than a few herbs and juices that are thought to promote internal health. Not everything that I use for healing requires spellwork. Nature is quite good about supplying its own remedies.”

“It’s purple,” stated Javier, skeptically eyeing the cup that Bianca had handed him. 

The witch reached towards the end table and produced Kevin’s half-finished bottle of grape-flavored Gatorade. She held it up for Javier to see. The Hispanic detective scrunched up his nose petulantly. Beckett was just curious and daring enough to try a small taste of the homemade mixture. To her surprise, it did taste rather good. When she didn’t feel any stabbing stomach pains after a minute, she drank a little more. Her partners watched her critically. She finished her portion without any dire side effects. Like Martha had said, even if it didn’t help anything, it probably wouldn’t hurt anything, either. 

Beckett’s bravery must have inspired Javier. He raised his own cup to his mouth and took a tentative sip. Beckett wondered if she should feel offended that Kevin looked more distressed about Javier trying the drink than he had about Beckett. She shrugged the notion away and waited for Javier’s verdict. 

“It’s sweet,” her older partner said. He looked over at Bianca again. “Is this going to make us big again?”

“No, _mijo_ , it doesn’t have any magic in it,” said Bianca patiently. 

“When can we be big again?” Now that he’d landed on a topic about which he felt very passionate, Javier’s shyness melted away and he leaned towards the witch eagerly. “Beckett said you had a cure.”

Bianca raised an eyebrow as she regarded Beckett questioningly. The detective flushed slightly and shook her head. She made a minute gesture towards Randy, which fortunately neither of her partners saw since they were focused on the older woman. Bianca didn’t look like she approved of Beckett’s keeping secrets from her younger partner, but Bianca wasn’t the one whose heart would break right along with the Irishman’s when he learned that he wouldn’t be returning to normal any time soon.

Bianca refocused on Javier. “That’s true. Randall has worked out a counter-spell that is promising. Unfortunately, the potion that accompanies the spell will probably not taste as sweet as this drink.”

“It can’t be any worse than what that hag made us drink,” said Javier darkly. 

“I hope not,” replied Bianca. She smiled softly when both of the cursed detectives’ curiosity overcame their apprehension and they started in on the drinks. Beckett was amazed at how trustworthy the witch could seem when she was being frank and honest. She wished that Bianca would be less enigmatic during their conversations. 

Castle finally noticed that the others were waiting for him to finish his mini-tour of his bookcase. He offered one of the armchairs to Randy before settling down next to Beckett. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Bianca’s seat on the lounge part of the couch meant she didn’t have a backrest but she made do by casually leaning back and bracing herself with her arms. Beckett wished she could look half as regal in the relaxed position.

Javier leaned over Kevin to deposit his cup on the side table. “So how do we break this curse?” he asked once he was seated again. 

“Well, it will probably happen a lot like the original retrogression spell,” said Randy. He leaned forward with his forearms resting on his thighs. “Instead of rewinding your body to a previous state, the new spell is designed to undo the invisible bonds that are keeping you at your younger age. On people like Serafina, the bonds eventually would wear off and the person would return to his or her true age. My mother’s spell finally managed to create bonds that wouldn’t dissolve over time.”

“So you’re just going to break these invisible bonds?” asked Castle. “How did Nora make them bigger without breaking the original spell?”

“I haven’t seen that spell,” said Randy. “I don’t know exactly what went into it, but I suppose it was a matter of forcefully altering their ages while leaving the bonds intact. The new spell would have conflicted with the original one, resulting in various degrees of harm to the detectives.” He motioned briefly towards Kevin. The little blond was tucked into the corner of the couch. His face was flushed again and his eyes dull with fatigue, despite having just woken from a long nap. He watched the rest of the group from over the rim of his cup as he slowly sipped at the sweet drink. 

“What about the injuries they had before the second spell?” asked Castle. “I know your brother tried to punish them for escaping after the change, but the cuts on their feet are from the attack on my house in Southampton. Why didn’t those heal when they aged by five years?” 

“The injuries they’ve acquired since being turned into children have happened in real time,” said Bianca. “They are independent of whatever physical age the body is at the time they are sustained.” Beckett frowned as she thought about the slowly fading ring of bruises across Kevin’s throat. Her hatred for the Bellefonte matriarch and her older son flared in her chest.

“So the anemia won’t go away with being returned to an adult,” concluded Castle. 

“No,” said Randy slowly. “This new spell isn’t without risks, either. Even though it will return the detectives to their natural forms, they still will have to go through the physical transformation. Growing that quickly could potentially cause related ailments, especially in the skeleton and vital organs.”

“But I’ll be there to help with the transition,” said Bianca. “As Nora gave her own energy to support the children the first time, I will do the same to ensure that there are no detrimental effects of the spell.”

“We’ll take it at a slower pace, too,” said Randy. “I guess you can relate the first spell to a sling-shot. It was like pulling the shot back in the sling. Now, your younger bodies are similar to being held in the ready position. I could just snap the bonds, but that would cause the shot to fire rapidly and destructively.”

“The more slowly you release the sling, the shorter distance the shot will travel, and with less force,” said Castle, picking up on the analogy. 

“Yes,” said Randy. 

“So how long will it take?” asked Javier. He scooted forward so he was sitting on the very edge of the seat. Beckett could practically feel his excitement at knowing that the end of his predicament was near emitting from his form in waves. 

“It depends on you, _mijo_ ,” said Bianca. “There is no hurry and we can also stop the spell if it looks like you are no longer responding well to the changes.”

“We survived the first time,” said Javier. 

“That was five years. Twenty-five years is substantially more changes.”

“Can you change both of us at the same time?” asked Javier. “That’s what your mother did.”

Randy frowned and looked over at Castle and Beckett. Castle shot the doctor a look that clearly read, “If you want to crush his hopes by refusing to change him back, you can tell him yourself.” Bianca shook her head slowly, the corner of her mouth quirked up as if she was looking forward to the imminent meltdown. Well, it was easy for her to judge - she didn’t have to actually say the words. Beckett gave her a dirty look. 

“Um,” hesitated Randy. “We’re not going to undo the spell on your friend.” To his credit, Randy didn’t back down from Javier’s incredulous stare. 

“Why not?” Javier slid off the couch completely so he could stand. “You have to.”

“He’s not responding well to magic anymore. The amount of magic required to turn you back into adults would do a lot worse than cause the temporary destruction of his red blood cells,” said Randy resolutely. “I won’t put his life at risk.”

“But you’re a doctor. You can’t just leave him like this!”

“Javi,” said Beckett. She leaned forward to grab his arm but the Hispanic detective pulled away harshly. 

“Yes, I am a doctor and I will not perform a medical procedure or a spell that could endanger the well-being of my patient.” Beckett was impressed at how calm the man was able to remain. Though his words were firm, he spoke them quietly and evenly. She imagined that he was as unhappy with his decision as the rest of them (except for maybe Bianca who was now giving the lead detective a smug look) but firm in his adherence to the vows he’d taken as a member of the medical profession. 

Javier took another step towards Randy. “You _said_ you could undo this curse.”

“I know I did. At the time, there was no way of knowing how poorly your partner would react to a spell of this magnitude. There’s still a chance that you could struggle with the new spell, but your tolerance to magic appears to be holding up. I can still undo your retrogression.” Randy cleared his throat, only breaking his eye contact with the shrunken detective when he looked down to cough faintly. 

“You have to fix us _both_ ,” insisted Javier. 

“I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“But… but…” Javier struggled to put into words the storm of emotions he had to be feeling. Beckett had known this was coming and she still was finding it hard to swallow around the lump filling her throat. 

She sought out her Irish partner. The mostly empty cup had been deposited on the end table so Kevin could hug his skinned knees to his chest and stare blankly at his bare toes. All she could see was his profile, which was enough to reveal his deep frown below tightly closed eyes. His cheeks and eyelashes were dry, leaving her wondering if his miserable posture was related more to Randy’s decision or discomfort from his illness. 

Beckett shifted her balance to avoid falling over when Castle rose from his seat to relocate next to the nine-year-old. She used the opportunity to finally reel in Javier, who had turned his attention to the second witch. Bianca’s smug expression was gone, replaced by one of faint regret and no small amount of pity. “Sweetheart, it’s okay,” she said weakly as she pulled the Hispanic boy away from the white witch. 

“It’s not okay,” argued Javier. “ _Do_ something, Beckett.”

“I can’t,” said Beckett. “I don’t understand all of this magical stuff but I can see for myself what the last spell did to Kevin. I’m scared to death to lose him after we _just_ got you two back. I’m not ready to take that chance.” 

“I _hate_ this curse,” stated Javier. “Please don’t cry, Kate.” She could see his eyes grow watery as she wiped away her own gathering tears. He climbed up on the couch next to her so he could wrap his arms around her shoulders. He didn’t have quite the reach or the strength as his thirty-six year old self, but the hug was still effective at replenishing Beckett’s courage and restoring her poise. Even after her throat stopped aching quite so much and her tear ducts dried up, she didn’t let Javier go. 

“It’s going to be all right,” she promised. She whispered the words directly into his ear. “When you’re big again, you can help me. You can help me keep looking for a cure for Kevin, and help me solve the Valduerez murder. You can help me make sure Rayford Bellefonte goes to jail for the rest of his life. You can help me and I don’t have to do it alone, anymore.” She had to pause to take a slow, shuddering breath and swallow painfully a couple of times. “We’ll figure this out, Javi. We’re not the best for no reason.”

He nodded against her shoulder. She kissed his temple and then looked towards the other end of the couch. Castle’s larger frame blocked Kevin from her view, but she grew concerned when she noticed that Bianca had also shifted over to get a closer look at the blond. Randy sat anxiously on the edge of his seat, watching Bianca intently for clues as to how the younger cursed detective was faring. 

Even though he was the bearer of bad news, Beckett felt awful for the doctor. His overly tense posture belayed the cacophony within him. She tried to imagine being in his place. In two days, he’d helped search for two little boys kidnapped by his own brother, exorcised and then cremated his mother’s corpse, and now had to crush the hope of one of those boys for ever having his curse reversed. She knew she’d feel guilty and helpless in his position and no doubt Randy did, too. 

Castle finally stood up. He slid one arm around Kevin’s back and the other arm under the boy’s knees so he could lift him off the soft leather. “His fever’s spiked again,” the writer informed her. “I’m going to lay him down.”

“I’ll bring you something to help bring his temperature down,” said Bianca. She rose gracefully and crossed to the kitchen. “Katherine, help me, dear.”

“What are you planning to make?” asked the detective wearily. She wanted to follow Castle and Kevin, not play hostess to the cryptic woman. Still, she pulled away from Javier so the two detectives could stand and walk towards the kitchen as well. Not wanting to be abandoned in the living room, Randy also followed. 

“It’s simple, really,” said Bianca. “Pay attention so you can remember the ingredients.” The white witch listed a bunch of common herbs and a few other simple items that Beckett actually managed to find in Castle’s well-stocked pantry. Bianca skillfully combined the ingredients as she narrated the recipe. Beckett wasn’t sure if she’d be able to recall all of the steps but Bianca would hopefully be willing to show her again when she wasn’t so distracted. 

The final product looked somewhat off-putting. Beckett eyed it suspiciously, then transferred her gaze to Randy. “It won’t hurt him,” said the doctor. “Though, it might offend his taste buds.”

“Oh, be quiet,” scolded Bianca with a short laugh. She turned towards Beckett and Javier. “Randall has forgotten all of his natural remedies and bought into the synthetic drug sham.”

“Some of them do actually work,” said Randy in defense of modern medicine. “And they don’t taste as foul.”

“Only because you swallow them whole,” said Bianca. “Come, now, let’s go check on your friend, shall we?” Bianca picked up her concoction and offered her free hand to Javier. The eleven-year-old hesitated before shyly accepting her outstretched appendage. Bianca smiled warmly at him. Javier tentatively mirrored her expression, though that didn’t stop him from looking expectantly at Beckett when the witch tried to lead him towards the guest room and Beckett didn’t immediately follow. 

“You can go. Castle probably needs your help. Randy and I will talk about the plan for tomorrow.” Despite her reassuring nod, Javier looked rather uncertain about leaving without her. Bianca finally cajoled him into showing her where he and Kevin were staying in the loft. Beckett watched them until they turned the corner just before reaching the door to the guest room. When they were out of sight, she turned to Randy. “Can we trust Bianca?”

“Trust her how?”

“At all.”

Randy chuckled tiredly. “Bianca is up to something, though it seems to do more with her position in the witch Council than with you and your friends. I don’t think you have to worry about her harming the detectives, Castle, or yourself. What she’ll ask of you in return for her endless supply of homeopathic remedies - I might be leery of that.” His ironic grin told Beckett that he was more teasing her than trying to warn her of a potential threat.

“She likes children,” continued Randy, “and she’s very interested in the retrogression spell that my mother wrote. I’m sure she’d prefer that you not rush into undoing it so quickly, but she can’t stand in your way, either. It’s not easy to become a white witch, after all. It’s not just about ability and avoiding the use of dark magic. You have to have magnanimous intentions and an altruistic attitude, too. Despite her love of mystery and causing undue amounts of stress in homicide detectives, she’ll adhere to those qualities as resolutely as I will to my professional oaths.”

“So all these little untruths that she keeps feeding me are what, white lies?” Beckett didn’t think Bianca’s actions were very noble when she was purposefully thwarting the detective’s every attempt to fix this magical mess. 

“I suppose you could call it that.” Randy shook his head. “I’m just as at a loss as you are about what she wants from me, too. One thing I do know is that she went over my spell to break the curse and she’s agreed to help me implement it. If she wants to be our ally, we could definitely do a lot worse.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” said Beckett. She’d mull over his response after the witches had departed. She had a hard time connecting his description of what it took to be a white witch with her experiences with Bianca. 

“About tomorrow - Bianca and I think it would be best for you to bring your friend to her place. If something does go awry, she has anything we’ll need to fix it. Plus, her apartment is much closer than mine.”

The idea made Beckett uncomfortable. “You’re sure we can’t do it here?”

“I’d rather not,” replied Randy. “Besides, this way the little one won’t have to be bothered by the spell when he’s feeling so under the weather.” He did have a point there. Beckett knew her partners cared deeply for each other and would never deny the other something they wanted. Still, it would be very difficult for Kevin to watch Javier return to normal when he was forced to remain cursed. 

“What time?”

“Ten?” suggested Randy. “Remind Bianca to give you her address before we leave.” Beckett nodded absently. The woman in question wandered back into the common rooms of the loft. Her face was clear of any indications of what she was thinking or feeling. “How is he?” asked the doctor. 

“Miserable,” responded Bianca. The corners of her mouth turned downwards. “I’ll leave the rest of the general health drink for you. Besides being good for the boys physically, it should help with rebuilding a tolerance for magic.” Beckett liked the sound of that. 

“When he recovers from the spell Rayford and Nora cast on him, will you reconsider breaking his curse, too?”

“We’ll see,” said Randy evasively. “It depends on his receptiveness to magic, not his physical health.” Beckett was willing to take his words as a sign for hope, though she doubted he wanted her to. “We should let them rest now, Bianca. Detective Beckett said she’ll bring her friend to your place at ten.”

“Perfect,” said the white witch. She wrote her address down in impossibly perfect script on the back of another of her mostly blank calling cards. Beckett tucked the card securely under the canister of sugar on the counter so she could find it in the morning. She walked the two witches to the door and bid them good night. Finally free of hostess duty, she hurried towards the guest room. 

Kevin was curled up on his side, breathing shallowly through his nose while Castle and Javier sat on either side of him, engaged in a heated debate. The writer held one half of the baby monitor set in his hand, out of Javier’s reach. The frustrated detective was trying to convince the bullish writer that it wasn’t required. 

“Listen to me, Javier,” said Castle sternly. “Either you leave the monitor alone or Kevin stays in my room with Kate and me.”

“We’re not babies,” argued the detective. “You don’t need to listen to us while we’re sleeping. That’s creepy.”

“It’s not creepy. It didn’t bother you when we were in Southampton, did it?” As soon as he said the words, Castle realized his slip and cringed.

“You had a monitor in our room in Southampton?” demanded the younger male in a voice that mostly resembled a bird screeching.

“Shh,” admonished Castle. “Don’t make your partner’s, or my, headache worse.”

“That’s a major violation of privacy, Castle. Did you have a warrant for bugging the bedroom?”

“No, I did not, you little brat. It’s my house and I can put monitors wherever I please.”

“How would you like it if I spied on you in the middle of the night.”

“Maybe you’d learn something,” retorted the writer.

“That’s disgusting,” complained Javier. “Beckett, did you hear him?”

“Castle does know a couple neat tricks,” she replied. She walked around to Javier’s side of the bed as her partner made gagging sounds and Castle pouted. 

“Only a couple?”

“Mmm,” hummed Beckett. “Javi, we want to make sure we know if Kevin needs us for anything. You know we’re not trying to spy on you.”

“We’re not babies,” Javier repeated. “If something happens, I’ll come get you.”

“No. That’s not good enough,” said Castle. “It’s my way or the highway.”

“Castle,” warned Beckett softly. Predictably, Javier did not appreciate Castle’s hard-lined stance. Before he could give voice to the anger collecting in his expression, Beckett hugged him from behind. “Please, Javier, just let Castle leave the monitor in here. Once you’re sleeping, you won’t even remember it’s there. Neither of us will be able to sleep well if we’re constantly worrying that Kevin might have another fever spike or become ill.”

“Why don’t you trust me to help?” asked Javier. His little chin started to tremble and Beckett mentally groaned. “You said that I take good care of him.” His dark eyes were fixed pointedly on the writer.

“I did say that,” said Castle. “I meant it, too.” He took a deep breath. “Javier, if Kevin’s nose starts bleeding again or he’s nauseous, are you really going to leave him here by himself to come wake up Kate or myself?” Javier opened his mouth to reply but his mind caught up with his tongue in time to stop his response. He shifted uncomfortably. “Can you lift him off the bed to get him to the restroom?” Javier’s expression crumbled as Castle systematically listed the detective’s limitations. “I know that you would go to the ends of the earth to make sure your partner has everything he needs, but you need my help right now. It’s foolish to not accept it.”

“Tomorrow night, you’ll be an adult again,” said Beckett. “You won’t be hindered by your size anymore and you can stay with Kevin and we won’t make you keep the monitor in here. It’s just one night, sweetheart.”

“Hey,” said Castle, trying to lighten the mood in the room. “I fully expect all of my kids to be self-sufficient by the time they’re thirty. No mooching off me anymore when you’re big again.”

Javier didn’t look amused when Beckett reached over to slap Castle’s knee. “My babies will always be welcome in my house,” she chided. She brought her arm back around Javier and held him tightly. “Can you deal with the monitor for one night?”

“Fine,” the Hispanic detective agreed grumpily. “Why do you always take Castle’s side?”

“I don’t,” argued Beckett. “I side with sanity and reason. For once, that’s the side Castle landed on.”

“Kate,” complained Castle. She smiled sweetly at her lover. 

“It’s still kind of early to go to bed for the night,” said the lead detective. “We could watch TV or a movie.”

“I’ll stay in here,” said Javier. The guest room wasn’t outfitted with an audio-visual system, so they’d have to adjourn to Castle’s office. Beckett briefly imagined remodeling the small room according to her Irish partner’s tastes. She’d have to make sure that no blatantly Irish stereotypical decorations made it into the room or Kevin would never stay in there.

“That’s fine,” said the writer. “Do you need anything before we go?”

“No, thank you,” replied the detective in a small voice. Beckett could tell that he felt bad about fighting with the writer but was unwilling to admit he was wrong. Fortunately, Castle seemed to understand as well. Beckett let go of her partner so Javier could make himself comfortable next to his half-awake friend. Castle checked on the Irishman once more before setting the monitor on the bedside table and rising. Beckett threaded her fingers through his when she joined him at the door. She bid her partners good-night as Castle led the way towards his office. 

The two lovers did end up cuddled together in one of the wide chairs before his television, though the volume remained barely audible. Finally alone, they fell into an in-depth discussion about their feelings towards their current situation and how they would move forward with the unexpected addition of a nine-year-old boy into their fledgling relationship. 

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.   
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art.


	50. Third Friday Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Javier leaves to become big again...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Fifty

The achiness and weakness that had plagued him upon awakening each time since Rayford had forced him to swallow that putrid potion was noticeably lessened this morning. Kevin cautiously tested out his re-sized body. Moving his arms and legs didn’t require quite as much effort, nor did it pull at his sore back quite so painfully. Despite his improved state, he didn’t dare hope that his condition would be long-lasting. The past two days had been a roller-coaster of fevers, nausea, and oh so brief moments of clarity. 

When he sat up, the room only wobbled slightly. A quick glance around the sleeping space confirmed that he was alone. The small digital clock on the nightstand read eight forty-seven. He hadn’t slept in that late for a long time. 

The Irishman slid carefully off the side of the bed. He nearly tripped over his too-long sleep pants as he started for the partially open door to the hall. The size nine clothes were a misnomer in his case. The loosely tied drawstring barely kept the cotton hanging off his hips and the sleeves of his shirt came down to the tips of his fingers. Even with the warmer sleep clothes, he felt chilled by the steady stream of cold air that pumped through the air-conditioning vents. 

In the corner of the room was the stupidly-named Honeymilk bear. It looked completely benign slouched on the floor as it was, though its lifeless embroidered eyes stared at him vacantly, just as Nora Bellefonte had. He pushed that thought away with a shiver. Castle could tease him about being afraid of the bear but the detective didn’t care. Kevin knew that he wasn’t. He was just pragmatically aware that it would be uncomfortable if the oversized toy fell on top of him. Speaking of the writer, the cursed detective could hear the man’s voice carrying down the hall from the direction of the living room and kitchen. Feeling surprisingly hungry, the nine-year-old deftly skirted the bear and escaped to the safety of the hallway. From there, he carefully padded towards his friends, mindful of his dangerous pant cuffs and unreliable balance. 

“Good morning, baby boy,” greeted Beckett, the first to notice his approach. “Did you sleep all right?”

He nodded, more interested in observing his companions than discussing his sleep habits. Castle was still in his dressing robe, though his hair was damp as if he’d been in the shower earlier. Beckett was fully dressed, as was Javier. Kevin suddenly remembered why today was an important day. Javier was going to be big again. The discussion of the night before slowly came back to him in blurry bursts. The doctor witch and the white witch had visited to talk about breaking the curse - on Javier, not Kevin. The Irishman was doomed to remained small, thanks to his sickly, weak body. He squashed down his rising jealously. Javier wanted so badly to be big again, even more than Kevin, and the younger partner wouldn’t ruin his best friend’s big day by feeling envious. 

“Hey,” said Javier. He jumped off his bar stool and carried a bunched up napkin to his partner. “You like these more than I do.” The edges of the white paper fell open to reveal some browning apple slices. Kevin’s appetite had been pushed back by the green-eyed monster trying to claw its way out of his stomach. He forced himself to smile while shaking his head.

“You eat them,” he said quietly. Javier stared at him with an unreadable expression before slowly pulling the offering back.

“There’s plenty of apple for everyone,” said Castle. He reached over to check Kevin’s temperature with the back of his hand. He looked pleased when the boy’s forehead didn’t feel overly warm. 

“Javier, go find your sandals,” said Beckett. “We need to leave now if we’re going to have time to swing by your place before heading to Bianca’s.” She continued shoving snacks and her phone into her purse as she glanced around the kitchen, searching for something. She eventually found the white card under the sugar canister and added that to her quickly filling bag. “Javier.”

The older junior detective jumped slightly at her short tone. He broke from trying to telepathically dissect the Irishman and looked over at their boss. She made a shooing gesture towards the front door of the loft. “Go on,” said Kevin. “You know how impatient Beckett is.” It was a little easier to grin this time. 

“Kev--”

“I’m fine,” interrupted the younger of the pair. “I just hope the witches don’t accidentally give you a Rudolph nose or something equally embarrassing.” Kevin hoped Javier didn’t notice the slight hitch in his last word. The Irishman _was_ happy for Javier. His best friend was getting what they’d both desperately wanted since they were turned into little kids exactly two weeks ago. At least one of them would be okay, even if it meant Kevin had to be the one to remain small. 

“Maybe I can convince them to make me a little taller and more ripped,” rejoined Javier, though there was little humor in his tone. His warm chocolate eyes scanned Kevin’s face diligently. Kevin put on his best poker-face and held his breath so Javier wouldn’t notice his shaky inhales and exhales. I’m not selfish, the detective reminded himself. I’m not selfish. I just don’t want to be left alone in this scary alternate universe by myself.

Beckett spared him from being found out by his observant partner when she grabbed Javier’s shoulder and spun him around to face the front door. “Shoes, now.” Javier pouted as he stomped towards the pile of discarded footwear in search of his cheap plastic flip-flops. Beckett crouched down in front of Kevin. “How are you feeling, babe?”

“Good,” he lied. He didn’t feel good physically or emotionally. Whether she believed him or not, Beckett took him at his word. She cupped his face with both hands and pulled him in for a kiss to his forehead. 

“Good,” she repeated. “Castle has an exciting day planned for you.” She sounded a little sarcastic. Kevin glanced curiously at the writer. 

“ _Lord of the Rings_ marathon,” announced the author. “Javier vouched for your geeky love of all things Middle-earth. I have all three movies, extended editions, of course, and enough popcorn and chips to keep Pop Secret in business for a year.

“Lucky you,” said Beckett with a laugh. Really, could she take the high road when she openly admitted to being a fan of the cheesy Sci-Fi show Nebula 9? Beckett kissed him again and then hugged him tightly. “Love you, baby boy. We’ll be back before you know it, okay?”

He didn’t trust his voice to answer out loud so he nodded. He was rather proud of himself for not even needing to blink back tears. Beckett squeezed his hand as she rose before turning to see if Javier had finally followed her order to put on his sandals. Castle walked over and nudged the Irishman’s shoulder to get him to move towards the door as well. Javier looked up at their approach. 

“Are you sure you’re fine?” asked Javier worriedly. He was back to watching his friend critically. “I don’t have to do this right now.”

“Of course you do,” said Kevin. “Don’t tell me you _want_ to be a kid for the rest of your life.” Oops, that delivery was kind of snarky. Kevin was not trying to make Javier feel guilty for his luck. Knowing the ridiculous Cuban, he already was bemoaning his good fortune in the face of Kevin’s bad luck. 

“No, I don’t, but…”

“At least one of us will be big again, Javi,” insisted Kevin. Please, just _go_ already. “You can go back to work and solve the Valduerez murder in no time. After all, we know it’s really you and I who do the detecting at the 12th.”

“Cute,” said Beckett. “Javi?” Kevin didn’t know why _she_ looked about to cry. She wasn’t the one in the body of a sickly nine-year-old with no hope of ever escaping this nightmare. 

“When I’m big again, I’ll take care of us both,” promised Javier. He reached for one of Kevin’s hands. “We’re partners ‘til the wheels fall off, even if only I’m allowed to actually carry a badge and a gun.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Kevin smiled sweetly at the older cop. “You should go before it’s too late and you have to wait another day.” Or before I can’t pretend I’m not bursting with jealously anymore.

“Are you sure-- Okay, okay, I’m going,” said Javier. He held up his hands defensively. Kevin let the dark scowl slip from his features. Javier surprised him with a cautious hug. Kevin returned the gesture. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly against the rush of despair that assaulted him and kicked his tear ducts into overdrive. Javier and Beckett really needed to leave now. He couldn’t fake this much longer. 

“Keep me updated,” said Castle as his girlfriend slid open the heavy front door and reached for Javier’s hand. 

“I will,” she promised. “See you tonight.”

Kevin returned Javier’s regretful wave as Beckett closed the door behind them. He dropped his hand sullenly when he could no longer see his partner. Javier deserved to be happy and have good things come his way. Kevin just wished that he did, too. 

“Come here, kiddo,” said Castle in a low voice. He knelt in front of the Irishman and wrapped the trembling nine-year-old in a bear hug. The meager shreds of Kevin’s hold on his tears snapped immediately. 

“It’s not fair,” the detective sobbed into the writer’s shoulder. “It’s not fair.”

“I know.” Castle rubbed Kevin’s back and pressed his mouth against the crown of the boy’s head. “Let it out,” he encouraged. 

“I can’t do this alone. I… I…”

“You’re not alone. Even if you’re the only one who’s small, you’re never alone.”

“I’m so scared,” he admitted between broken gasps for air. “At least… at least with Javi…”

“I know,” soothed the writer. “It was easier to be brave when he was being brave too, huh?” Kevin nodded. He was grateful that Castle seemed to grasp a little of what he was feeling. 

“I’m a bad person,” Kevin stated after a few more minutes of ragged crying.

“Because you want Javier to stay small with you?” guessed Castle. Was his family gifted with the ability to mind read after all? “You’re not a bad person, Kevin Ryan. You’re in a horrible position and of course you don’t want to feel like the only one. Just because he’s big again doesn’t mean Javier is going to forget what it was like being in your place. He’ll still understand and empathize.”

“I shouldn’t want bad things for my best friend.”

“You don’t. You know that. You’re happy for Javier that he gets to be big again. Now he’ll be able to tell his secret crush about his feelings, and hopefully said lady will tell me because I’m still frustratingly in the dark as to her identity. He can go back to work and solve lots of murders and make New York a safer place. You’re happy for all of those things. It’s just buried right now under your fears and apprehension about the future. But you’re not a bad person.”

Castle was right. Javier’s life didn’t revolve around Kevin and the Irishman never thought that it should. He could be happy that Javier was happy. Just, right now, it hurt so damned badly. The writer tightened his embrace as a fresh wave of hopelessness overtook the nine-year-old. 

“Come on, son. This hard floor is killing my knee. Let’s go get comfortable in front of the TV. If you think you’ve got it bad, try being in possession of the One Ring.” Kevin forced himself to laugh tearfully. He appreciated the writer’s attempts to lighten the mood, even if they weren’t actually helping. He ignored Castle’s slip, because that’s all it had been: a mistake.

xXx

Javier didn’t try to dodge Beckett’s attempts to hold his hand as they walked briskly down the street towards the subway. Though the stations and trains would be filled with people, it was the quickest way to get around the crowded city. The eleven-year-old easily kept up with Beckett’s pace, taking advantage of his longer legs and requiring less steps to match Beckett’s stride. He didn’t miss being six at all.

The lead detective wrapped her fingers tightly around his. He took comfort in her grip and it freed him from paying too much attention to where they were going. Instead, he thought about his parting conversation with his partner. 

Kevin claimed to be fine with Javier taking advantage of the opportunity to break the curse. The Hispanic detective knew that the Irishman would never begrudge him for giving in to his desire to be big again. Kevin wanted to be freed just as much as Javier, so he understood Javier’s suffocating need. The Hispanic detective couldn’t stand feeling so small and helpless for another minute. Kevin knew how that felt. 

And Javier could imagine how awful his best friend had to be feeling right now. The younger detective had tried valiantly to hide his hurt and envy that morning but Javier wasn’t blind. Both of them had taken comfort in the fact that while it was horrible being in the body of a child, at least they hadn’t been alone in their misery. Now, Javier was leaving Kevin to face an uncertain future by himself. No matter how much Kevin assured him that he wanted Javier to go through with the cure, the Hispanic detective knew that Kevin was distraught at not being uncursed as well. 

Even Beckett’s hopeful reassurances that Kevin would recover from his anemia and Bellefonte Two would reconsider forcing the detective to remain small did little to assuage his crippling guilt. Javier knew that he wasn’t being fair to himself. He’d witnessed enough survivor’s guilt, and felt it himself on occasion, to know that it was a misplaced feeling. That didn’t make it go away, however. 

Beckett was too distracted by continuously scanning the crowd, looking out for suspicious people who might want to take Javier and sell him into captivity, to pay much attention to her partner’s uncharacteristically quiet demeanor. Even on the subway train, after pushing him to the inside seat of a bench and taking up a defensive posture next to him, she kept a wary eye on the other travelers. Javier stared at his hands and bit his lower lip. 

Three stops later, Beckett finally relaxed a little and let out a stressed sigh. She looked down at her companion. “You okay, Jav?”

“Fine,” he mumbled. 

“Are you nervous about the spell?” He could tell that she was anxious about how he would react to the influx of magic, especially after Kevin’s negative response to that hag’s spell. Honestly, he hadn’t really thought much about the chance that he could become ill, also. 

“Not really.”

“You’re so quiet. I thought you’d be bouncing out of your seat in anticipation. I mean, tonight, you’ll finally be free of this curse.”

“Yeah.” Javier didn’t think he could enjoy being big again when his best friend was so miserable. He didn’t want to go back to work without his partner. He’d been torn up about losing Ike, but he’d eventually moved on. To lose Ryan… He shook his head. He hadn’t truly lost his partner - he just wouldn’t be his partner anymore. 

“I promise I won’t make you do all of the paperwork when we get back to work,” said Beckett. She smiled softly and bumped his shoulder. Javier didn’t even pretend to be amused. He sighed and looked out at the flashing lights in the pitch black tunnel. “Sweetheart?”

“It’s nothing,” he said, a little more forcefully than he’d intended. Beckett had thick skin, though. Thankfully, she left him alone to struggle with his thoughts. No matter how many times he told himself that he wasn’t being selfish by becoming big again, he couldn’t shake his guilt. 

They finally reached the station that would let them out topside just a couple blocks from his apartment. Javier couldn’t believe it had been two weeks since he’d last been there. Thankfully, most of his bills were set up to auto-pay, including his rent. He hadn’t even thought about that when the first of the month had rolled around. He tried to remember if he should be embarrassed about any messes that he wouldn’t want his supervisor to see. He was a pretty neat guy and took his trash out regularly, so things should be in mostly presentable order. It took him longer than it should have to imagine the state of his apartment. When he visualized his bedroom, he kept coming up with images of Castle’s guest rooms at the loft or his summer home. 

Beckett once again got a death grip on his hand and guided him skillfully between the clumps of slower moving people. He took a deep breath of the less congested air once they were on the sidewalk. His guilt lessened for a moment but the feeling didn’t last. He kicked a small stone to the curb and continued to stare at his feet as Beckett led the way up to his building. She fished his keys out of her pocket as if it was completely natural that she would be in possession of them instead of the junior detective. Javier had to show her how to jimmy the key slightly in the older lock to get all of the tumblers to release. His building wasn’t quite as nice or state-of-the-art as Castle’s. 

They continued the trek to his apartment in an awkward silence as Beckett dutifully left him alone with his thoughts, against her will. She unlocked the door and pushed it open so Javier could proceed her inside. It smelled a little musty, like no one had been there for two weeks. Javier took his time running his hand over the back of his couch (nothing that would impress the ladies, according to his buddy Monster) and making sure all of his electronics were still present. The open case for Madden NFL 24 was lying next to his Xbox from the last time Kevin had come over to play. They played at Javier’s a lot, because Javier was still grossed out by Kevin’s road kill couch and he lived near better take-out joints. 

Beckett intrusively entered his kitchen to search for spoiled food in the refrigerator and cabinets. She probably would find a few moldy cartons of Chinese in there. Served her right for snooping. He watched her make a gross face as she pulled one such carton out of the appliance and chuck it into his garbage can. She noticed his attention and stuck out her tongue. “You need to eat more healthily than this, Javi.”

“Well, when you have a slave-driver for a boss, there isn’t much time left for developing any culinary skills.”

“Very funny. Go find something to wear tonight and tomorrow. We don’t have much time to get across town.”

Javier’s shoulders sagged again at the reminder that he would be cured and his partner wouldn’t. He slunk into his bedroom. His bed was one thing that he had missed acutely during his transformation. He bypassed his closet to climb onto the double bed and reach for his pillow. He pushed his face into the familiar object. It also smelled musty, but underneath that, he could scent the laundry detergent that his sister had dropped off once when she’d been in the area. His mind drifted a bit as he imagined once more sleeping in this room.

“Hey, you. It’s not naptime.” Beckett strode into the room and lightly smacked her partner’s upturned behind and then turned towards the five-drawer chest against the near wall. Javier scowled at her back. He snapped out of his funk when she made to open the top drawer of his dresser. 

“Beckett!” He scrambled off the bed to stand protectively in front of the furniture. “You can’t just look in a person’s underwear drawer.”

“I bought you new underwear two days ago, sugar. Besides, you’re not making any progress packing.”

“I’ll do it. Go away.”

“If I go away, you’ll just curl up with your pillow again.”

“No, I won’t.”

“Javi, is there a reason you’ve been dragging your feet all morning?” Her concern overcame her respect for his privacy. 

“I haven’t,” he argued. 

“You have,” she corrected. “What’s wrong? Don’t you want to be big again?” She made herself comfortable at the foot of his bed and regarded him closely. 

“Of course I do!” He crossed his arms over his chest and fell back against his dresser. Ow, not a good idea. One of the brushed nickel drawer pulls dug into his sore back. 

“Really? You don’t have to lie to me, Javi.”

“I do want to be big again,” he said honestly. He just felt awful about getting what he wanted when Kevin didn’t. 

“And you feel bad because Kevin is still going to be small…?” Beckett leaned forward so she could snag the front of his shirt and pull him to stand between her legs. He kept his eyes downcast, studying the tiny design on the top button of her blouse. “Javi, feeling guilty isn’t going to miraculously cure his anemia and convince Randy to change his mind about reversing the curse on him.” She brushed her thumb over his cheek. 

“I know.”

“But it doesn’t change anything, does it?” She smiled knowingly at him when he dared to meet her eyes for a moment. “I understand. Still, you can’t put your own life on hold.”

“What’s the point of being big again if he’s still small?” wondered Javier. “I might be able to go back to work, but he won’t be there. I can visit him at Castle’s loft, but it won’t the same as hanging out, just the two of us. We can’t go to the bar anymore, or borrow the Ferrari, or scam Castle out of Knicks tickets.”

“That’s all true,” she said sympathetically. “And there’s more to it than just missing your best friend, isn’t there.” She hadn’t phrased it as a question because in her mind, it wasn’t one. She thought she was so clever. Javier rolled his eyes. 

“I just… I know him. He said he was okay with everything, but he’s not. I mean, I wouldn’t if I were in his place. I’d probably throw a fit if someone told me I couldn’t be big again because some fu-- some old hag jacked with my age just to make the person who wanted to buy me happy.” Javier cursed his wildly uncontrollable emotions for taking a turn towards frustrated tears again. 

“I know you would. You tried to last night, in Kevin’s defense.”

“A lot of good that did me.” Beckett’s casual peasant top had strings that could be tied together and tightened to draw in the wide collar of the shirt and hide the strap of her camisole that was barely visible. She left them undone, relying on the decorative buttons to hold the soft linen together. Javier reached up to tug on one of the strings, unable to leave his hands idle. “I couldn’t even talk Castle out of the stupid baby monitor.”

“Well, that’s because I took his side,” said Beckett. “You wuv me too much to argue with me.” She pinched his cheek. Javier could feel the blood rushing to his face to betray his embarrassment.

“ _Beckett_.” He pushed her hand away before going back to tugging on her shirt string. 

“Well, sweetheart, the decision is yours. You need to make it for the right reason, though. Don’t let misplaced guilt make it for you.”

“What if it is my fault though, at least partially? If I hadn’t pushed him so hard when we tried to escape, he probably wouldn’t feel so bad right now and Bellefonte Two would make him big again.”

“No, Javier,” Beckett said firmly. “The damage was already done by then. You know that.”

Javier frowned. “So? If I hadn’t hesitated before shooting that asshole, we never would have been kidnapped in the first place. I failed to protect Kevin and Castle back in Southampton.”

“It’s not your fault, Javier Esposito. Are you listening to me?” She squeezed his arms just above his elbows and shook him gently. “It’s not your fault. The _only_ ones to blame are Nora Bellefonte and her deranged son.”

“You weren’t there,” argued Javier. “I had plenty of chances to take him out, but I didn’t. I let him overpower me and he hurt Kevin because of it.”

“You were _six_ , Javier. Castle never should have given you the gun in the first place. I shouldn’t have left the three of you alone, knowing that Rayford was out there and potentially targeting you. Hell, Kevin is also a trained NYPD police officer. He should have been just as capable as you were at disabling Rayford. Do you blame him for what happened?”

“No, that’s ridiculous.”

“We all could have done something differently that morning and maybe Rayford wouldn’t have been able to kidnap you two. But we didn’t and he did. Still, he’s the only one to blame for the abduction. It is not your fault, Javier. If you don’t believe me, ask Castle how _he_ feels about the two of you disappearing.”

“I know it’s stupid for any of us to feel guilty about the whole situation, but I can’t help it,” Javier said with a whimper. “And I know that I have to be big again, despite feeling guilty. I have to go back to work and help you and try to think of a way to pay Castle back for everything and--“

“Hey. You don’t have to do anything and you don’t owe anyone anything. Castle and I love you and we want to help you through this, no matter what it takes. I can manage at work, especially now that Captain Gates knows what’s going on. Demming has been helping me and there are four other qualified homicide detectives in our department, too. Castle isn’t going to become destitute feeding or clothing the two of you.”

“What about the hospital bills, Beckett? Neither Kevin nor I have insurance at the moment. At least, not for our shrunken selves.”

“We’ll work it out, sweetie. I’m sure Rayford has to be worth something, right? Even punitive damages will go somewhere towards covering the hospital expenses. Besides, Kevin has a long-term disability plan that he’ll be able to start collecting on.”

“Yeah, in seven more weeks,” said Javier darkly.

“Then we’ll look at our short-term options, too. The moral of the story is, Javier, that I don’t want you worrying about financial concerns or inconveniencing Castle or me. Even though I feel just as badly for him as you do, I’m kind of looking forward to having him around. He’s a cute little thing and an excellent cuddler.”

“I don’t know what to do.” He tugged a little too much on the string and it nearly came all the way out of her collar. 

“You can start by not destroying my clothes,” chided the lead detective. She rescued the string and pulled at the other end until they were even again. Once satisfied with the condition of her shirt, Beckett folded her soft hands around Javier’s. “You should do what you want to do. What you want to do here--” She pushed their conjoined hands towards his chest. “Not here.” She leaned forward to kiss his forehead. 

“Do you really think that Kevin will recover and Bellefonte Two will change his mind?” asked Javier in a small voice.

“I do, but I don’t know when,” she replied. “And I might be wrong.”

“But I can change my mind again?”

“Yes.”

“And you’ll be okay?”

“Javier! Stop worrying about me, you little goof.”

“Well, someone has to. Castle isn’t very good at it sometimes.”

“Uh huh.”

“Kevin is going to think I’m crazy,” said Javier. Even with the anticipation of his partner’s incredulity, for the first time that morning, Javier finally felt like he could breathe freely. He smiled genuinely at Beckett. At least this time, the choice was his. That alone made the upcoming days a lot less intimidating. 

“Oh, I’m sure he will,” said Beckett. She returned his smile with a bright one of her own. “I should call Randy. Yikes, it’s nearly ten-thirty. They probably think we changed our minds.” She winked at Javier as she pulled out her cell-phone. 

Her conversation was short and to the point. When she hung up, she told Javier that the doctor had been completely understanding and assured her that Javier could decide to undo his curse whenever he wanted. “Are we going back to the loft now?”

“Eventually,” said Beckett. “I promised to take you to your favorite deli, didn’t I? All of this icky talk about feelings has me feeling famished.” She poked Javier playfully in the stomach. He giggled and tried to escape but she hooked her ankles together behind his legs and held him hostage. “Besides that, it’s hotter than July 12th outside and rumor has it there is a delectable ice cream parlor not far from here.”

“It is July 12th,” Javier informed her. 

“I know that, pumpkin.”

“Okay, I can deal with sweetheart, but not pumpkin,” complained Javier. Beckett laughed openly. Her mirth was contagious and combined with his unburdened conscience, Javier found he could laugh lightly with her. 

“Come on, let’s grab anything you want while we’re here. You have any games you want to bring back to Castle’s?”

“Nah, he has a PlayStation,” said Javier. “All my games are for the Xbox.”

“There’s a difference?”

“Yes.” Javier wasn’t fooled by her pretend ignorance. He gave her a look. Beckett stuck her tongue out at him. 

Javier did take a few minutes to rifle through his toiletries and pick out some stuff he’d want at the loft. Beckett offered to carry his small duffel and reached for his hand again after making sure his apartment was securely locked. Together, they made for the delicious deli on the next corner.

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.  
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art.


	51. Third Friday Late Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Castle has an epiphany...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Fifty-One

Castle yawned and tried to subtly stretch without disturbing Kevin, who was paying rapt attention to the lovely dark-haired elf as she dodged yet another attempt from a ringwraith to steal away the sickly hobbit she was transporting on the back of her stolen horse. Well, that was Castle’s interpretation of the scene at least. He preferred the original version of the scene - the one written by Tolkien - but he could understand why the screenwriters had made the switch. Arwen was nicer to look at and the number of male characters in the film was already quite large. 

His bladder was protesting the amount of coffee he’d drunk during the earlier part of the film and his arm was starting to tingle as Kevin’s weight against his shoulder cut off his circulation. The writer kept reminding himself that the upcoming entrance to Rivendell heralded the end of the first half of _The Fellowship of the Ring_ and then he’d be able to get up without earning any more low sounds of displeasure from his detective every time he was distracted from the film. 

The sound of the front door to his loft opening caused Castle to strain his ears in order to determine who was coming in. He suspected that it would be his mother, who’d doubled up a shopping outing with taking Alexis back to Columbia. The familiar sounds of the older woman eased his apprehension. He dared to bring his free hand across his body to press against the nine-year-old’s forehead. Kevin whined as the motion momentarily blocked his view of the television. 

“Oh, boo-hoo,” said Castle. “How many times have you seen this?”

“Shut up, this is important.”

“No, it’s not. It’s just a bunch of cut scenes of random people arriving in Rivendell.”

“They’re not random,” said Kevin shortly. “That’s Boromir and--”

“I know who they are,” interrupted the writer. He couldn’t stop himself from chuckling at Kevin’s rude hand gesture. Apparently, he was a genius when it came to picking activities that would keep a shrunken police officer’s mind off the fact that his partner was being turned back into an adult when he was not. 

Martha was spared her own look of derision as she entered the office just as the scene faded to black and the DVD prompted its audience to switch to the next disc. “Good morning, darlings.”

“Welcome back, Mother. Did you leave anything on the shelves for other people to buy?”

“Very funny, Richard.” The actress rolled her eyes. “How are you feeling this morning, Kevin?” Martha brushed her hand lightly over the top of the dark blond hair. 

“Okay,” he mumbled, mostly into the rumpled fabric of Castle’s shirt. 

“He’s made it all morning without a fever spike or bout of dizziness and nausea,” reported the author. “That’s an improvement from the past few days.”

“Have you given him any of his medication yet this morning?”

Castle groaned faintly as he pushed himself into a seated position, tightening his arm around the boy to make sure Kevin didn’t slide off the chair during the adjustment. He’d been reclining in his wide chair and making good use of his ottoman during the movie while Kevin was tucked under his left arm, using the man’s broad chest as a pillow. The thin comforter, kept especially for the purpose of getting comfortable during a film, was tucked mainly around the nine-year-old as Castle had started feeling a little warm.

“Not yet. I was thinking about making pancakes during the break, since the doc recommended against taking the stuff on an empty stomach.”

“Break? The movie’s not over yet,” protested Kevin.

“It stopped all by itself, didn’t it?”

“Yes, but--”

“So it’s over.”

“We have to watch the second part.”

“We will, in like twenty minutes,” argued Castle. “Come on, up.” He gently nudged the boy until Kevin grudgingly climbed off of him and waited impatiently next to the chair. Castle stood himself and took advantage of the opportunity to stretch his hands high over his head. He instinctively reached for the child’s hand when he was ready to leave the room, still subconsciously worried that the blond would disappear again or his health would take a turn for the worse. Kevin didn’t seem to mind. 

“How did this morning go?” asked Martha in a low voice as they walked towards the kitchen. The foot and a half she had on Kevin now didn’t really translate to a distance over which the detective in question couldn’t still hear her inquiry. Castle squeezed the little hand in his to offer what little comfort he could at the reminder of Javier’s enviable fortune. 

“Tearfully,” he responded. “Pretty much as expected.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, kiddo.” Martha placed her hand on the nine-year-old’s shoulder. Kevin gave her a wan smile that barely turned up the corners of his mouth, let alone brightened his eyes. Once they reached the kitchen, Castle set about pulling out the mixing bowl and pan he needed for the sugary sweet flat cakes while Kevin and Martha each took a seat in one of the barstools at the island. The detective propped his chin up tiredly in his hands with his elbows braced against the countertop. At least now he could sit normally and not have to kneel. Martha sat perpendicular to him and rubbed his back soothingly. 

Castle hid his smile at the tender gesture by turning his back to the pair in order to retrieve his pancake mix from the cupboard. Until the kidnapping, his mother had kept her distance from the cursed detectives, only really stepping in when Castle needed her help. He knew that she was concerned with smothering the boys and didn’t want to further discomfit them by being overly attentive. The actress had given up on her charade of indifference now. After all, the nine-year-old was basically her long-awaited second grandchild. 

“Do you want any, Mother?” Castle asked as he started pouring globs of batter into his frying pan. 

“No, thank you. I ate with Alexis after making a few stops up on Fifth Avenue. Kevin, when you’re done eating, you’ll have to try on some of the pants I found for you. They’re size nine, but looking at you now, I’m worried they’ll be a little too big.”

“You went shopping on Fifth?” Kevin looked over towards the fancy designer bags waiting by the door, each with various colors of tissue paper peeking out from the top. Castle set a plate with two small pancakes and a light swirl of syrup in front of the boy to take his mind off of the high-end clothing hidden in the bags. 

“I’m sure she stuck to the clearance racks and only picked things that were heavily marked down. Right, Mother?” Castle raised his eyebrows as he made eye contact with the redhead. Martha easily understood his unspoken words.

“Of course, darling. Really, I’m surprised they haven’t driven the department stores out of business with the way they keep marking down prices.” Castle shook his head and Martha gave him a dirty look. She shifted to a smile before the detective turned to regard her skeptically. 

“Eat.” Castle tapped on the counter next to Kevin’s fork, drawing the boy’s attention away from his mother’s awful acting. Seriously, she taught acting classes? It wasn’t her fault, though. It was easy to forget that the cute little kid dressed in an oversized pajama set featuring Lego caricatures of Batman and Robin still possessed the shrewd mind of a highly skilled police detective. Castle made up his own plate of deliciousness and claimed the last barstool, putting Kevin between the two full-sized adults. “When you’re feeling up to it, we’ll make a trip down to Goodwill. I’m sure they’d love to get all of the nice things that you and Javier barely wore. We can donate the car seats, too.”

Kevin merely nodded slowly. He poked his brunch with his fork but made no move to actually put any of the food in his mouth. Castle nudged him as a reminder that the pancakes were for eating, not playing. Kevin reluctantly changed gears and did his best to ingest as much of the breakfast food as possible. 

“What are your plans for the rest of the day, Richard?” asked Martha. 

“Probably just to hang out around here,” he replied. “Kate and Javi should be back late this evening, depending on how things go over at Bianca’s. Kevin will want to keep watching _Rings_ , I’m sure.”

“I’m going to head to my studio for a few hours, then,” said Martha. “Do you need anything before I go?”

“We’re good. Be safe.”

“I will, dear.” Castle exchanged air kisses with the woman. Martha patted Kevin’s back fondly as she rose from her seat. “Don’t have too much fun without me.”

“Of course not.” Both males watched her grab her purse off of the table in the entry and give them a quick farewell wave before closing the door behind her. Castle refocused on his little boy and the barely touched pancakes. “At least finish one so you can take your meds. I’m not going to turn the movie back on until you’re done.”

“I’m trying,” complained Kevin. He stuck another microscopic bite into his mouth. “I don’t want to take the stupid medication anyway,” he muttered to himself. Castle heard him clearly. 

“Come on, kiddo. I know you’re having a bad day, but this really isn’t the end of the world. Almost, but not quite.”

“I don’t want to be difficult, I just…” He dropped his fork on his plate with a clatter and bowed his head over it, taking a shaky breath. 

“Hey, it’s okay. Maybe the pancakes were still a little too heavy for you. What if we try some more of Bianca’s special purple smoothie?” Without waiting for a response, Castle moved towards the refrigerator and pulled out the chilled thermos. He didn’t completely buy into the restorative capabilities of the random mix of juices and herbs, but it certainly hadn’t made the boys any worse last night. As for Kevin’s improved condition today, for that the writer gave all of the credit to the prescription medication. 

He traded the small serving of the beverage for the soggy plate of pancakes and instructed the blond to drink. Kevin slowly sipped at the concoction while Castle quickly cleaned the mess from their meal. Fortunately, most of it could go into the dishwasher. 

“Castle?”

The writer barely heard the softly spoken word over the sound of the running sink water. He turned off the faucet and grabbed a dishtowel to dry his hands. “What’s up, kiddo?”

“Did… did you and Beckett know about this before yesterday?”

Castle startled at the unexpected question. Fortunately, Kevin didn’t seem to notice. The blond was focused on his cup, which thankfully, was nearly empty. “Know about what, Kev?” Maybe Kevin hadn’t actually gotten wind of the huge secret they’d kept from him for two days and was asking about something completely unrelated. 

“That the doctor witch wouldn’t turn me back into an adult. Is that why you already had fake papers ready?”

Castle did not want to admit that he and Beckett had knowingly let the younger detective foster a false hope that he’d be freed from the curse. He struggled to think of a response that would relieve the two lovers of any culpability yet still be satisfying to their friend. “Captain Gates had the adoption papers made for both of you before we even found you in Vermont,” he said. That much was true. 

“But you knew.”

Castle sighed heavily. It was pointless to keep up a charade of ignorance. “Yes, Kevin, we knew. Randy told me on Wednesday that he wouldn’t undo the spell on you when the jump from four to nine made you so sick. We didn’t tell you because we still had hope that he’d change his mind. He still might. If Javier goes through the change with no ill side effects, maybe the good doctor will reconsider helping you.”

“Okay.” The single word was delivered emotionlessly. Kevin mechanically finished the last of his drink and pushed the glass towards the writer. Castle wished he was truly a mind reader so he could figure out what the shrunken detective was thinking. He feared that the Irishman felt betrayed by his so-called friends, even though Castle and Beckett had never meant to hurt him. They were just trying to spare their own feelings at the expense of his… This was such a screwed up mess. 

“I’m really sorry, son. We shouldn’t have let you go on believing that you’d be freed from the curse with Javier. It was the cowardly thing to do.”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t call me that,” said Kevin. “You don’t have to lie to me. I’m not a child. I don’t want to play pretend games.”

“I’m not pretending,” said Castle resolutely. He walked around the island to reclaim his seat next to the miserable nine-year-old. “Kevin Ryan, you’re mine now. Mine to love, to protect, to cherish, to guide, and to dress in designer kid clothes if I want. And I can’t think of anyone I’d rather call ‘son’ than you. If the endearment makes you uncomfortable, that’s one thing, but don’t ban me from using it because you think I don’t mean it.”

“How can you? I’m just an inconvenient burden at the most inopportune time. I can’t pay you back for the hospital or the damage to your house. I don’t have the money for all these expensive clothes Martha keeps buying me, especially now that I’m going to lose my job and my apartment.”

“I don’t know how to convince you that I don’t consider you a charity case, Kev.” Castle felt his own emotions fluctuate towards sadness. “I want to keep you, I promise. I can’t wait to watch you grow up. I can’t wait to see all of the things you’ll achieve and act like any of it was thanks to my positive influence. I can’t wait to take credit for the amazingly loyal, steadfast, and honest young man you’ll become in ten years. You can go to the police academy again, or you can chose a new career path, like rocket science or brain surgery. Heck, you could become an astronaut. Everyone wants to go into space. Can you imagine how jealous everyone will be of me for having _two_ spectacular kids?”

“You’d like that,” said Kevin with a watery smile.

“Oh, you can bet on that.” Castle grinned brightly at the child. “I know it’s not always going to be easy, especially with the sorts of people you’ll be likely to attract. Witches, supermodels, brain trust executives…”

“Castle, you do remember what I was like as an adult, right? No supermodels or brain trust executives in a ten mile radius.”

“That’s just because you didn’t have a concerned role model telling you not to wear cheesy three piece suits and atrocious ties to work every day,” teased Castle. 

“I looked good,” argued Kevin. 

“You keep telling yourself that, squirt.”

“Can I ban you from calling me that?”

“Sure, when you’re taller than me.”

“That’s not fair.” Kevin pouted theatrically. 

“That’s life,” rejoined the writer. “So, squirt, Halloween is coming up in a couple months and you know that’s one of my favorite holidays. At first I was thinking that you’d make an adorable little leprechaun, but that was when you were four. However, having discovered your rabid love of _Lord of the Rings_ and knowing that hobbits are also about four feet tall, I’ve decided that you would make the perfect halfling.”

“I’m not dressing up as a hobbit. I don’t want to dress up as anything.”

“Oh, come on. It will be so much fun. I could be the wise and immortal wizard. Kate would make a very sexy shieldmaiden. I’m sure we could convince Javier to go as an orc. I know Alexis would love to dress up as an elf.”

“Castle! No.”

“You don’t have a say in my brilliant plan, kid. Now, go switch out the DVDs. I’ll join you in a minute.”

“I’m going to tell Beckett on you and she’ll also veto your Halloween idea,” promised Kevin. 

“You always tell Beckett on me. I’m not afraid of her.” Castle stuck out his tongue. “Shoo, young hobbit.”

Kevin shook his head but slid off his chair nonetheless and headed towards the office. When the boy turned the corner and left the writer’s line of sight, Castle’s sunny disposition evaporated and his shoulders slumped. He wanted to call Kate but worried that he’d interrupt something important with the spell that would break Javier’s curse. Everything he’d said to Kevin was the honest truth - he was looking forward bringing the Irishman up as his own son. Unfortunately, he knew how hard it was going to be for the little guy and that was something the writer couldn’t protect him from. 

A quick trip to the restroom was in order to relieve his screaming bladder. Once back in the kitchen, he retrieved the bottle of liquid steroids and measured out the blond’s dosage carefully. He located the half-finished bottle of Gatorade from yesterday in the door of the fridge and was just about to make his own way towards the office when the front door of his loft opened again. He automatically assumed that Martha had forgotten something she needed at the studio, so he was stunned when his girlfriend walked in, carrying a take-out bag of deli sandwiches and holding the hand of an eleven-year-old Hispanic boy. 

“Hey guys,” he greeted. Had something happened? They both looked fine, so why weren’t they with the witches?

“Hi, Castle,” said Kate.

“Is everything okay? Why are you here?” Castle squinted as he looked at Javier, who was shyly toeing off his flip-flops and avoiding eye contact with the writer. His cheeks were a little pink but nothing looked off about him.

“I’ll explain it to you in a little bit,” Kate whispered. “But we’re going to keep Javi for now, too. Okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” Castle was having a very hard time thinking of a reasonable, or even unreasonable, explanation for why Javier wasn’t in the middle of being returned to full size. It was all the boy had talked about since they were reunited in Vermont. Castle hadn’t thought anything could keep the veteran from breaking his curse. What about his job? His secret love? His whole life?

“Where’s Kevin?”

“He, um… He’s in the office.” Castle shook his head to clear away the surprise that was making him sound so confused. He cleared his throat. “Kevin! Come see who’s home early.”

The nine-year-old materialized a minute later, looking equally impatient and curious. When he recognized his partners, his surprise mirrored the writer’s. He hurried over to stand before Javier. “What’s wrong?” he asked worriedly.

“Nothing,” said Javier. He looked down at his toes and then bravely raised his face to look directly at his partner. “I decided that I really wasn’t feeling up to going through the painful transformation just yet, either.”

Kevin stared at the older boy for a long minute. Javier held his gaze, letting his best friend seek out the answers to his unasked questions in Javier’s dark eyes. Castle was about to pass out from holding his breath as he waited anxiously for Kevin’s response. 

The Irishman’s answer wasn’t verbal. He suddenly sprung forward, throwing his arms around the older boy’s neck and nearly knocking them both to the ground. Javier recovered his balance and wrapped his arms tightly around Kevin’s back. His eyes were squeezed shut as he hugged the smaller boy. Kevin was crying again, but this time Castle knew they were tears of happiness. He felt choked up himself. Javier had chosen his partner over his own happiness and freedom from this horrible spell. He’d chosen Kevin over his job, his possible relationship…

“Well, call me silly,” said Castle as the realization hit him like a Mac truck.

“Huh?” asked Kate. She tore her eyes away from her partners to look up at her lover. 

“The blond at the precinct…”

“Oh, you’re just now figuring it out?” Kate smiled mischievously at him. 

“Hey, maybe I’ve known subconsciously since the beginning. In my defense, Javier hasn’t exactly acted any differently than he always has.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Rick.” Kate kissed the corner of his mouth. “The rest of us just know you’re slow on the uptake.”

“I’ll show you slow,” threatened the writer. He swiftly captured her lips in a passionate kiss and had her moaning for more in no time. He completely forgot about their location and their audience.

xXx

After being rudely reminded by Javier that the two shrunken detectives were still present and that people ate at that island thank you very much, Castle grudgingly backed away from Beckett and rubbed his hand over his face to erase his wide grin. Beckett tried in vain to fight down her blush as she moved around the island to shoo her partners away. Before the kids got too far, Castle called Kevin back to take his forgotten medication. The little blond obediently drank the shot-sized serving and made the prerequisite grossed-out face before gulping down the Gatorade in hopes of overriding the unpleasant taste.

Beckett wandered over to the collection of designer clothing bags and reached through the mass of tissue paper in one to pull out a tiny dark blue polo shirt. She rubbed the fabric between her fingers. It was much softer than the cotton she was used to when it came to the casual top. It reminded her of the high quality clothes Castle wore and she realized that Martha must have gotten a head start on upgrading Kevin’s wardrobe. Curiously, she reached for the cardboard tag affixed to the hem of the shirt with a bit of ribbon and a safety pin. Her eyes widened when she saw the price. Knowing her eco-conscious partner like she did, she predicted a strong reaction when the Irishman found out how much his new digs cost. 

She put the shirt back and walked over to lean against the island next to Castle. “Castle, have you seen what your mother bought for Kevin? He’s going to flip.”

“Oh, he already has,” the writer replied. He shook his head. “Just the names on the bags caused him to whine about how he couldn’t afford such expensive stuff now that he’s jobless.”

“Javi’s worried about that kind of stuff, too. I told him that they could collect disability until this mess is cleared up and he seemed okay with that idea. They’re very concerned that you’re going to think they’re taking advantage of your generosity.”

“I know. Well, Martha thinks the clothes are probably too big for him, anyway. He might be nine, but that doesn’t mean he wears a size nine. We need to figure out a way to get him to eat more or he’ll be able to go as a stick figure for Halloween, no costume required.” 

“You’re already thinking about Halloween?” Beckett laughed and leaned up to kiss him. “I’ll take the boys to a more reasonably priced store in a couple hours and see what damage we can do to your checking account there.”

“Sounds like a plan. I told Kevin we could take their old stuff to Goodwill sometime, too.”

“In the meantime, I feel like I could use a nap.” She winked seductively at her boyfriend. 

“You know, I’m feeling a bit tired myself,” he responded with a devilish grin. He threaded his fingers through Beckett’s and led her towards the leather couch where her partners had taken up seats and were looking at something on Javier’s smart phone. “You two can take care of yourselves for a couple hours, right?”

Twin expressions of confusion turned towards him. “Why?” asked Javier. 

“Kate and I are going to take a nap.” Beckett felt her face grow warm once more. Her partners weren’t stupid. They would never believe that the two lovers planned on sleeping the afternoon away. She could already see the wheels turning figuratively in their minds as they plotted to antagonize the lovers. 

“Can we come?” asked Kevin innocently. Beckett didn’t believe his act for one second, though Castle bought into his earnest expression. 

“What? No. Why would you want to?” asked Castle.

“I’m tired, too,” he said. He pretended to yawn widely. 

“You have your own bed to sleep in,” argued the writer.

“But I haven’t seen Beckett all morning.” Apparently, Castle was too flustered by trying to come up with a legitimate reason why the boys should stay out here, by themselves, without actually admitting what the two adults were planning to do, to notice Javier snickering behind his hand and Kevin’s wavering poker face. It was time for her to take matters into her own hands. 

“It’s okay, Castle,” she said, stepping towards the couch. “I’m not shy. I don’t mind if they want to watch.” That wiped the smiles off of her annoying partners’ faces. 

“Geez, gross, Beckett.” Javier stuck his tongue out at her after making a gagging sound. Kevin took his turn blushing with embarrassment. 

Beckett ruffled Kevin’s hair. “Stay put and be good,” she said firmly. She smiled sweetly at them before returning to Castle’s side and nudging him towards the master bedroom. The sounds of Kevin and Javier complaining about needing brain bleach followed them until the door closed soundly behind them. 

“Are you sure you want to do this, knowing that they’re out there, knowing what we’re doing?” asked Castle. 

“They understand that Mama’s got needs,” replied Beckett. She licked her lips slowly and popped the top button of her peasant top. 

“When you put it like that…” Castle coughed to clear his throat. He made a low whine of desire when she undid the next button and accompanied the move with a slow twist of her hips. She continued her sultry dance to the beat in her head as she finished undoing her top and let it slide off her shoulders to fall into a puddle on the floor. Castle’s pants were looking a bit tight across the front, just the way she liked them. 

“Do you need help with that?” she asked, motioning towards his waist. Really, there wasn’t much to help with. He was still in lounge clothes and the drawstring wasn’t even tied. Still, he stepped towards her, eager for her attention. As she slipped her fingers under the low-sitting waist of his pants, he returned the favor by working her belt loose and popping the button of her shorts. 

Their play became a little more rushed as Beckett found Castle’s favorite bit of anatomy and wrapped her long fingers around it. Eager to finally join together after a stressful and emotional week, they quickly shed the rest of their clothes and fell onto the bed. Beckett settled in comfortably on her back as Castle crawled over her. He leaned down to kiss her passionately and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders to draw him in even closer. 

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.   
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art.
> 
> _The Lord of the Rings_ movies are property of New Line Cinema and the original novel is by J.R.R. Tolkien.


	52. Third Friday Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein shopping with Caskett is no fun at all...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Fifty-Two

By the time she stepped out of the shower for the second time that day, Beckett felt like she was completely back to normal. The fatigue and worry from the long days spent searching for her partners had finally been washed fully from her skin and her typical vigor and determination pulsed through her veins. She needed a mission, now - a way to feel productive and motivated. Providing for her impromptu family seemed like a viable option. Her little boys needed clothes that actually fit them and Beckett was the woman for the job. She wasn’t overly fond of shopping, but it could be enjoyable when she was in the right frame of mind. 

Castle watched her with wide eyes as she strode determinedly across his bedroom, buttoning her peasant blouse and fluffing her loose hair while searching for her wallet. He had changed into comfortable jeans and a button down during the time Beckett had to spend drying her long hair.

“Did you check on the boys?” asked Beckett as she tossed his sleep shirt onto the bed from where she’d pulled it off the dresser. She let out a small shout of victory when her wallet was revealed. 

“No, I just finished getting dressed two seconds ago,” he replied. A quick glance at the clock revealed that her partners had been on their own for a little over two hours. Beckett squashed down her irrational concern. Despite their activities, the two lovers definitely would have heard if the boys needed them. They were fine. 

“I want to take them to the store,” she said. “I don’t know how long they’ll be small, but I’m sick of the stuff from Vermont. The forest was beautiful and all, but I don’t need the constant reminder of what we all went through.”

“Agreed,” said Castle. “Unfortunately, Gina found out that I’m back in the city and she’s claiming that I absolutely have to go over to the publisher’s for something about the next Nikki Heat book.” He held his phone so she could see the series of speech bubbles that represented text messages. “Will you be okay with the boys on your own or can you wait until I get back?”

Beckett frowned. She was looking forward to spending time with her lover, but she understood that he had to work sometime, too. He’d put his own life on hold since her partners were cursed while she continued to work as much as she could. “Yeah,” she said eventually and followed it with a reassuring grin. “I’ll invite Lanie.”

“Javier will like that. I’ll meet up with you when I’m done.”

Beckett sent a quick message to her best friend, inviting her to stop by when she finished up at work. She pocketed her phone and wallet and gestured towards the main part of the loft. Castle followed her out of the bedroom, through his office, and into the open area of his living room and kitchen. 

It wasn’t until they walked around the back of the couch that Javier finally noticed them. He looked up from the book he’d borrowed from one of Castle’s many bookcases. Next to him, Kevin had taken advantage of the peaceful quiet to nap. His little feet pressed against the side of Javier’s thigh, opposite of his head which rested mid-cushion on one of the throw pillows. 

“Hey,” said Beckett with a soft smile as she sat on the arm of the couch next to Javier. “What’cha reading?”

“Just some non-fiction book of Castle’s,” replied the junior detective. 

“I see.” She didn’t, really. He had the book open in his lap so she couldn’t see the cover. She wasn’t overly interested in the topic, anyway. She wanted to get out in the sun again and stretch her legs. “I want to take you two to get some stuff to wear besides the things we bought in Vermont.”

She tried to brush her hand over the top of his closely cropped hair. She was rebuffed by his pushing her hand away with a sour expression. “Don’t touch me. I don’t know where your hands have just been.” Her mouth dropped open in a surprised ‘O’ but her expression quickly morphed into a determined set as her competitiveness surged. 

“Is that so?” She patted him teasingly on the cheek. 

“ _Beckett_.” His only option to escape her pestering was to slide off the couch and try to make a bid for freedom in the kitchen. Beckett nimbly cut him off. When he was six, she’d been able to easily haul him off the ground, rendering him helpless against her machinations. Now, she resorted to dragging him down to the plush rug and rolling his smaller body under hers where she could hold him immobile and defenseless against her “gross kisses” and “contaminated hugs”. Pinning Javier down wasn’t easy, but she still had the advantage of size and strength. Not only that, but Javier had taught her most of his hand-to-hand combat skills back in a time when he’d never thought she’d use them against him. She easily predicted his moves and countered them. By the time she did manage to lock her knees on either side of his hips and press his wrists to the ground above his head, she was laughing too hard to drop more than a few wet kisses on his flushed cheeks.

“Uncle, uncle!” Javier cried, squirming for all he was worth. “Help!”

“Who’s going to help you? Castle?” Beckett smirked triumphantly. “If you think _my_ hands have been in questionable places…”

“No! Too much information. I think I’m scarred for life now.”

“You’re such a comedian,” she said dryly. “Ugh, I haven’t rolled around on the floor in ages.” She stole one more illicit kiss from the boy’s cheek and then let go of Javier’s wrists and climbed to her feet. She left Javier sprawled on the floor, trying to catch the last of his short breath. 

During her horseplay, Kevin had awoken and sat up. The little blue-eyed blond watched her worriedly. When Beckett took a step towards the couch, the little turncoat actually shrank away from her, curling into Castle’s side for protection. “Don’t think Castle can protect you from me,” she taunted. She knew she couldn’t be as rough with her younger partner, but a little display of affection wouldn’t hurt the Irishman. 

Kevin didn’t actually put up much of a fight when she pulled him away from the writer and cuddled him into her lap. He made the obligatory stink face to keep up appearances for his partner’s sake when she subjected him to the same bout of motherly kisses, but Beckett knew her baby boy wouldn’t forgo the attention for anything, even if she had just been involved in a much more adult version of the activity with her lover. 

Javier, covered now in “germs and cooties” as he was, dragged himself off the floor and flopped onto the couch on Castle’s other side. “You all right there, buddy?” the older man asked. 

“I might survive,” replied the detective. “I’m thirsty.”

“You know where the glasses and water are,” replied the writer. 

“I can’t reach,” pouted Javier. 

“Uh huh.” Castle raised an eyebrow as he regarded the eleven-year-old. Javier stuck out his lower lip and stared back at Castle with an expression that would make a puppy jealous. The writer capitulated in embarrassingly short order. At least he had the dignity left to drag Javier into the kitchen with him. Beckett sent Kevin to the guest room to change into street clothes and then joined the others at the island. 

Javier watched her guardedly out of the corner of his eye as he gulped down the clear, cold water Castle had provided. Beckett grinned ingenuously at him. “Would you like anything, my love?” asked Castle. 

“No, thank you.”

“So, where did you have in mind for your shopping expedition?”

“I was thinking about heading up to 34th street. There are a few places up there that wouldn’t break a detective’s bank,” she replied. “We could take the subway to the Manhattan Mall and go from there.”

“Works for me,” replied Castle. “It won’t take me long to get there from the publishing house.” 

“Can Kevin and I stay here?” asked Javier. He set his now half-empty glass on the island and looked between the two full-size adults.

“No,” the lovers answered in sync. Beckett hurried to elaborate when her partner’s expression darkened at the implication that the duo couldn’t be trusted to stay home alone. “Sweetie, I don’t want to be making a bunch of trips back and forth trying to find something that you’ll approve of and will fit you. You need to come with me so we can try things on at the store.”

“You’re not making this sound any more enjoyable,” he informed her. 

“Too bad. You can stand one afternoon of clothes shopping. Didn’t Lanie ever take you to the store?”

“Yes, and that’s why I know I don’t want to go.”

“What, did she make so many purchases that even big ol’ macho Esposito couldn’t carry all the bags?” teased Castle. 

“No.” Javier rolled his eyes. “But I about contracted a sinus infection from all of the fruity scents wafting about and even though I didn’t touch anything, I was covered in glitter for a week.”

“You’re exaggerating,” accused Beckett. “Besides, we’re not going to those types of stores unless you continue to argue with me. Then, I will make sure we spend a long time in every lingerie boutique I can find.”

“Maybe I’d like that,” he rejoined. 

“I guess we’ll find out.” The two partners glared at each other until their mini contest was interrupted by the return of Kevin. He’d apparently settled for the first outfit he’d found and was therefore sporting the majestically rumpled trees of the Green Mountain State and the plain khaki shorts they’d found at the hospital. Beckett cringed internally. The hospital clothes would be the first things to land in the donation box headed for Goodwill. 

“Do you want a drink before we go, kiddo?” asked Castle. 

“No, thanks,” replied the Irishman. 

They all jumped when the door buzzer sounded unexpectedly. Javier barely righted his glass before the rest of his water spilled across the sleek countertop. Beckett subconsciously moved to stand between the door and her partners as Castle warily headed towards the entrance. When the lead detective recognized the voice of the newcomer, she nearly smacked herself in the forehead for her overreaction. 

“Somebody said shopping so I came running,” announced their favorite medical examiner. She brushed by Castle with a quick salutation and headed straight for the detectives. She was wearing street clothes and surrounded by the appealing flowery scent of her perfume, but Beckett could still catch the faintest odor of the morgue. Lanie had obviously come straight from work. “Though, I didn’t expect to be invited out today.” She raised an eyebrow expectantly at Beckett. 

“There was a change of plans this morning,” said Beckett. “Someone got cold feet.”

“Mmhm.” Lanie’s penetrating gaze shifted from her friend to her ex-lover. Javier’s thirst returned with a vengeance and he drank greedily from his glass - an act which required his full attention. Lanie let him deflect for a minute while she focused on Kevin. “Come here, cutie.” She leaned down to wrap him in a warm hug. “You’re looking better today.”

“’M okay,” he mumbled coyly. 

Lanie pressed the back of her hand to his cheek. “You don’t feel feverish. Any dizziness or nausea still?” He shook his head. “Good. You’re getting enough rest, right?”

“A little bit. Castle promised we could watch _Lord of the Rings_ , but we didn’t.”

“Isn’t part of being a detective _not_ believing in full disclosure?” complained the author. “And besides, your partners came home and interrupted us. Not my fault.”

“Like it’s not your fault you had to take a ‘nap’ in the middle of the day?” asked Javier. To his dismay, his comment drew the attention of his ex-girlfriend. 

“Oh good, you’re done,” said Lanie. She took the empty glass from Javier and handed it off to the appalled writer while securing a firm hold on her ex-boyfriend. “I want to talk to you for a minute, _chico_.” She pulled him off his stool and dragged him towards the guest room while Beckett, Castle, and Kevin watched in varying degrees of amusement or concern. When Kevin started after the pair to act as backup for his partner, Beckett grabbed him and redirected him towards the controversial bags still standing idly by the door. 

“You don’t want to get in the middle of that conversation, Kev. Come on, let’s look through this stuff and see if there’s anything you want to keep.” Kevin’s attention remained mostly on the hallway towards the guest room, despite Beckett’s attempts to distract him with the high quality apparel. Castle busied himself preparing for his meeting with his publisher. 

Fortunately, it didn’t take long for the medical examiner and detective to return. Neither appeared to be sporting any fresh wounds, emotional or physical, so Beckett assumed the conversation went well. If anything, Lanie carried herself with the air of a proud sister whose brother had just done something of which she greatly approved. “Oh, that’s adorable,” said Lanie when she spotted the tiny sweater vest Beckett was holding up to Kevin’s chest.

“It’s too expensive,” said the blond, who looked equally displeased with her choice of adjective as he was with the price tag.

“Psh, it’s not that bad,” said Beckett. She looked up at Lanie and Javier. “You guys ready to go?”

“Yup.” 

“Do you need the restroom, first?” Beckett asked Javier. He had chugged that water pretty quickly. 

“I’m fine,” he said with a slight hint of exasperation. Hey, he wanted to stay small so Beckett could mother him. Well, that wasn’t actually the reason, but she wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass. 

“Okay, go get your sandals.” The two cursed detectives made their way towards the front door much more quickly than they had earlier that morning. Castle, ever the prepared father, offered Beckett a small black backpack with a couple water bottles, a snack, and Kevin’s medication in case they were still out when it came time for his next dose. He held onto the nine-year-old’s hand while Beckett snagged Javier’s before he could dodge her. Together, the five rode the elevator down to the lobby and then stepped out into the warm sun. 

They retraced Beckett and Javier’s path to the subway, which was much more crowded than it had been in the morning. At least they’d been able to find a seat on the way to Javier’s apartment. Castle split from them at the ticket booth, needing a different line to get to his destination. Lanie took over guardianship of Kevin as they wove through the other subway riders to the correct platform. 

Beckett kept a wary eye on the rest of the passengers squished together on the packed train. She held on to the sticky silver rail above her head with one hand and wrapped her free arm around Javier’s shoulders, keeping him pressed firmly against her side. He looked about himself curiously, taking in the faces of all of the strangers out of habit. A few feet from them, Lanie assumed a similar position with Kevin, though the Irishman was less interested in their fellow sardines. 

Beckett thought the stop at the lower level of the Manhattan Mall would never come up quickly enough. She kept a firm grip on the back of Javier’s shirt as she pushed him forward through the mass of people milling about on the subway platform. Thankfully, Lanie kept up with her and they made it out of the station with only a few necessary apologies for bumping into other commuters. 

The mall was likewise busy, but at least there was enough room to breathe in the multi-story building. There wasn’t much in the way of kid’s clothing stores at the small center, but the large department store would likely have some promising selections. 

They had to weave through the automotive department and electronics section before they reached the escalators. Her boys were more attracted to those parts of the store than clothes shopping, but Beckett would not be detoured from her mission. Lanie helped by smirking obviously behind her hand as she watched the lead detective herd the kids in the right direction with bribes of ice cream and threats of lingerie shopping. 

They finally reached the small segment of the store dedicated to boys between the ages of five and twelve. A quick perusal of the racks explained why so much of the boys’ four and six-year-old clothes had borne the images of superheroes. A brief feeling of being overwhelmed washed over her but she pushed it down. She had overcome much greater challenges than shopping for kids’ clothes, no matter that she currently had two kids under her charge who were much more interested in anything than this. 

“Beckett?”

“Yes?”

“I have to go to the bathroom.” She looked down incredulously at her older partner, who blinked innocently at her. 

“What? I told you to go back at the loft.”

“I didn’t have to go then.”

“Well, hold it.”

“Beckett,” Javier whined. She immediately grew suspicious when his chocolate-colored eyes sparkled, contrary to his petulant tone. She doubted that he actually needed the restroom, but rather was giving her a hard time in revenge for earlier. Well, two can play at that game, pumpkin. 

“Castle can take you whenever he shows up. I’m not taking you into the Ladies’ Room and you’re not allowed to leave my sight.”

“So bossy.” He sighed and turned away, trying to summon some interest in the racks of colorful shirts and shorts. 

Beckett had to let go of her partners in order to flip through the apparel. They stayed close to her anyway, comforted by her strong presence despite Javier’s pretense of independence. She wasn’t the only one still harboring feelings of paranoia after the kidnapping. Lanie started sorting through a table of folded items a few yards away. 

“What do you think about this, babe?” she asked after a few minutes of quiet searching. She handed Kevin a plaid button down that looked small enough to fit him. 

“It’s okay,” he replied. “I like this one.” He pointed to a different shirt. Beckett agreed that it was something her Irish partner would like. She checked a couple of the pieces for a smaller size and gave it to the blond to hold. Her confidence grew as she looked through the clothes and soon she had a few tops for each of her boys. It was time to detour to the pants.

Unlike Beckett, who’d approached the task with minute trepidation, Lanie had launched right in, obviously having a better idea of how to shop for disinterested males. Instead of carefully selecting items that reflected each of the boys’ personalities, she picked up anything that looked like it might fit and handed it off to her friend. “They’re boys, Kate. They don’t really care what they wear,” Lanie told her when she questioned the ME’s methods. 

“I care,” said Kevin.

“You care about the clothes or how much they cost?” asked Beckett. 

“Both.”

“Well, then you can tell Kate what you like when you’re trying stuff on.” Lanie gestured towards the fitting room. “You guys go ahead, I’ll watch Javier.”

“I don’t have to try all of that on, do I?” asked Kevin as he eyed the pile of clothes in Beckett’s arms. Really, Lanie had gone a bit overboard. 

“We’ll see,” she replied. “Go in that one.” She pointed with her toe towards the largest unoccupied stall. She happily dropped the pile on the small bench opposite the full length mirror and sat down beside it. “Okay, strip.”

“You’re staying in here?” Kevin looked between her and the closed door.

“Oh, don’t be shy. Come here.”

“But…” He was cut off by Beckett grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. The move left his dark blond hair sticking up electrically and his expression set to displeased. Beckett was familiar with the way dark splotches of bruising wrapped around her partner’s torso, but knowing didn’t ease the knot that formed in her stomach each time she saw the results of Rayford Bellefonte’s work. At least the bruises were starting to fade and turn yellow around the edges. He looked better than he had when she’d scrubbed him down in the hotel in Rutland. Bianca’s herbal remedy appeared to doing the boy some good. 

“Here, try this one,” she said after her hesitation lingered for a moment too long. The Irishman picked up on her mood and his own demeanor changed to match hers. The worst of the bruises were on his back, so Kevin had to twist around to see his reflection in the mirror in order to see what had distracted Beckett. Beckett forced herself to put her negative sentiments away. “Kev, you’re fine. Come on, baby.”

He gave up on the mirror and let her pull the possible contender over his head. The soft, dark gray fabric of the baseball tee brought out the storm clouds in his beautiful eyes. “I like this,” the lead detective said. “What do you think?”

“’S fine,” he mumbled. He picked at the sleeve which stopped just below his elbow. “It’s soft.”

“It’s a good color on you.” She sorted through the pile until she found a pair of cargo shorts that would match the shirt. “Let’s see if these fit.” She reached for his waistband, but this time the Irishman was quick enough to push her hands away. 

“I can do it. Don’t look at me.”

“Why not? I promise not to make fun of your Spiderman undies.”

Javier’s naturally dark complexion was much better at hiding his embarrassment than Kevin’s pale cheeks. She grinned devilishly at him when he turned the color of a tomato. “I’m not… they’re… it’s not Spiderman,” he stuttered. 

“Are you sure? I bought them for you and I think they were Spiderman.” She hooked a finger under the loosely fitted pants and tugged. She was thwarted from actually seeing which cartoon graced the tiny briefs by Kevin’s surprisingly agile evasive maneuver. 

“It’s not,” he repeated. He backed into the corner of the stall and eyed her cagily. His hands clutched the front of his shorts in case Beckett got any more ideas. She couldn’t contain her laughter and nearly doubled over. Fortunately, she recovered soon enough to circumvent Kevin’s plan to crawl under the dressing room door and try his luck with Lanie, instead. 

“I’m sorry,” she said between laughs, making her apology seem less than sincere. She pulled him into a tight hug and held him until she could finally talk without snickering. She wiped a tear from her cheek when she released him. “Okay, we need to hurry up.” She coughed into the back of her hand to hide her last chuckle. “I won’t look, just try on the shorts.” She dutifully hid her eyes behind her hand and listened closely to make sure that Kevin actually was changing. 

“Done,” the Irishman informed her a couple minutes later. The bottoms looked to be a little big for him, though she wondered if the extra inch might allow him to grow into the shorts and have them last longer. A few child-sized belts would take care of the looseness until then. She turned him around so he faced the mirror and then pulled the thick fabric tight around his hips to see how much room he really had to spare. Her approximation of an inch was optimistic. They definitely needed to find him a smaller size. His only warning at her move was the reflection of her teasing smirk and it came too late for him to prevent Beckett from pulling down the back of the shorts.

“Oh, you’re right. Not Spiderman,” she announced. 

“Beckett!” He looked over his shoulder to deliver his glare directly at her. 

“You and Javier both,” she complained lightly. “I’ve seen your pale little tush in the buff, so seeing the Superman undies I bought for you is no big deal.” She pinched his side. 

“This is borderline harassment,” he informed her crossly. 

“Only borderline?” She rubbed her hand over the top of his head, making the static charge even worse. Kevin did his best to flatten it once she was finished tormenting him, but he didn’t have much success. 

“Are we done now?”

“No, you’ve only tried on two things. And don’t whine at me. Here, let me see how far off we are and then you can try the next pair.”

“This is miserable.”

“Suck it up, Ry.” Kevin settled for pouting at his reflection while his boss continued to find way too much amusement at his expense. 

“Castle’s right about feeding you more,” Beckett stated as she tugged on the back of the shorts. “Try these, I think they’re smaller.” She handed him a pair of jeans. In the spirit of “respecting his privacy”, she checked her text messages while he changed into the second pair of pants. A sly thought crossed her mind and she smirked as she typed out a quick message to Lanie, encouraging her to take Javier over to the underwear and sock section to see if the eleven-year-old was equally shy about who graced his briefs. 

“What are you doing?” asked Kevin when he heard her mirth bubble up again. He tried to see the screen of her phone but she held it out of his reach. 

“Nuh-uh, cutie. You still have more stuff to try on. Do the jeans fit better?”

“They’re good.”

“Let me see.” She tugged on the waistband again. The denim did actually fit properly. She flipped up the back so she could see the size on the tag. She mentally filed away the number so she could more easily narrow down her search the next time. 

The two friends fell into a pattern of changing and playing with one’s phone. Before too long they had sorted the clothing items into two piles: the things Kevin was willing to let Beckett purchase on his behalf and the things he wasn’t. The approved pile was woefully small, but Beckett reminded herself that there was still hope that Kevin would recover enough for Randy to reconsider his decision to keep the Irishman as a child and maybe he wouldn’t need so many new outfits. If her hopes ended up dashed, they could go shopping again as necessary. 

Besides, they’d made it through this batch of clothes just in time. Kevin’s changing pace had slowed down greatly and he was starting to look flushed again. She hoped Lanie and Javier had also been successful because Beckett wanted to make it back to the loft before her younger partner’s fever spiked again or he was hit with another nosebleed. “Do you think you can walk back down to the subway?” she asked softly, brushing his bangs off his forehead gently with her fingertips. 

“I’m fine,” he said, a bit testily. She ignored his tone, knowing that he didn’t want to admit how awful the newest spell had left him feeling. 

“Okay. Let’s go find Lanie and Javier.” She collected the approved clothes and piled them over her left arm so she could wrap the fingers of her right hand around Kevin’s little digits. Once they were out among the racks again, Beckett scanned the area for her friends. She didn’t see Lanie right away. It was possible that the ME had detoured to the underwear and sock department as Beckett had suggested, so the lead detective guided her partner through the maze of clothes towards the bins filled with assorted unmentionables. 

Or not so unmentionable. She easily recognized the voice of her boyfriend, who was apparently done with his meeting and had tracked down Lanie and Javier. The writer was immersed in a thrilling discourse about the pros and cons of various cartoons on child-sized packets of underwear. His captive audience included a handful of mothers with their own offspring, a young father sporting a bemused expression, a barely breathing medical examiner who was only standing upright with the help of a strategically placed mirrored column, and a mortified eleven-year-old who’d curled up behind one of the bins with his arms over his face. Beckett actually felt kind of bad for Javier, whose hiding spot wasn’t very concealed. 

“See, Kevin, you had it easy with me,” said Beckett in a low voice. The blond just shook his head and refused to be dragged any closer to the long-winded author. He did follow her over to his partner. Once Beckett had knelt down next to Javier, the Hispanic detective practically launched himself into her arms. 

“I changed my mind again,” Javier whispered hurriedly. “Call the witches. I want to be big, and I get a one day Get-Away-with-Murder pass, too.”

Beckett chuckled. “I’m fresh out of those, sweetie. Let me see what else I can do.” She untangled herself from Javier and left the two cursed detectives to wallow in their shared grief as she made her way to Castle’s side. 

“Excuse me, sir,” she said in her authoritative cop voice. “I’m going to have to ask you to stop being ridiculous for your own safety. Severe and serious threats have been made against your person.”

“Kate!” Castle reached over to grab her hand and pull her into his figurative spotlight. “What do you think? I’ve presented the argument that one must be selective when choosing the role model that will grace one’s tighty-whities. Do we want to encourage our sons to be industrious, hard-workers by clothing them in the likeness of Bob the Builder, or do we want to instill in them heroism and patriotism by promoting Captain America?”

“Your ‘son’ is going to murder you in your sleep tonight, Rick,” replied Beckett, though her smile undermined the gravity of her words. 

“Well, then I surely won’t get him anything sporting the image of the mighty T-Rex or the Hulk,” said Castle. He tossed two plastic packages back into a random bin. 

“My son likes Thomas the Train,” offered one of the entertained mothers. 

“A brilliant choice,” agreed Castle. “That little locomotive is a well-spring of tenacity and good humor.”

“Why don’t you just pick something so we can move to the shoe department,” suggested Beckett.

“But it’s so hard, Kate. When Alexis was their age, there were so fewer selections, and then it was only between My Little Pony and different Princesses. How am I ever supposed to pick one?”

“Like this.” She snagged two packages out of his hand, checked the sizes, and then added them to her collection of clothes for Kevin. “Put the rest away.”

Castle frowned and his shoulders slumped as the detective stole his thunder. His amused audience slowly dispersed, no doubt filing away the memory of one crazy father in such a way that it could be easily recalled when a bit of laughter was needed. Beckett dropped a kiss on his protruding lower lip. He couldn’t hold on to his act for long and soon his mischievous grin was back. 

Lanie was still a little breathless when she pushed herself off of the column and joined the quartet. “Come on, Javi. Castle’s done now.”

“If you don’t like what Kate picked for you, it’s not my fault,” stated the writer. “She doesn’t understand the subtleties of men’s underwear.”

“I hate you,” muttered Javier. His face was still dark with the evidence of his complete humiliation. 

Castle was unfazed by the sentiment. He clapped his hands together. “Shoes?”

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.  
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art: lsmwalls[ d o t ] tumbl r [ d o t ] com[/]image[/]58939397473
> 
> Much thanks also to my dedicated readers. Please be patient with me! I know I’ve lost sight of the A plot for a while in favor of the B plot, so I’m consciously trying to get this behemoth back on track. As for the identity of “the blonde at the precinct”, that my dear readers, is for you to decide. To that end, the only romantic relationship in this story will be Caskett. Anything else will have to be explored later…


	53. Third Friday Late Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Friday continues to drag on...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Fifty-Three

Fifteen minutes later, they had made their clothing purchases and were stepping out into the rest of the mall to head towards a dedicated shoe store, since the department store’s small selection had been a bust. Castle hummed quietly to himself, no doubt fondly replaying his earlier impromptu speech. He idly swung back and forth the hand that was folded around his less murderous friend’s. Kevin’s eyes stayed downcast, though Beckett attributed that to his growing fatigue as opposed to any lingering discomfiture.

The female detective was the only full-size adult that Javier didn’t feel wholly betrayed by, so she kept a firm hold on him as they slowly navigated the busy central corridor. Lanie took the lead, guiding them towards their target store. Beckett doubted Javier could hold on to his ire at the beautiful medical examiner for much longer, though she had already resigned herself to sleeping with one eye open that night to keep Castle safe. 

As they passed one of the big box electronic stores, Beckett realized that she had made the mistake of forgetting that she was traveling with _three_ little kids. She was reminded of that fact when Castle was immediately distracted by the colorful display in the window. She appropriated Kevin from the writer before he wandered into the store and became too engrossed in the newest knick-knacks. He was already zeroing in on _The Hobbit_ display. She informed him that he had exactly ten minutes before she expected to see him over at the shoe store. Castle agreed absently. Beckett dragged her boys away from the display, ignoring Javier’s protests that he wanted to spend ten minutes looking at the oversized TVs, too. Well, he was sure willing to forgive Castle quickly if it meant escaping the clothes shopping expedition.

Finally inside the shoe store, Javier amused himself with the scale that helped one determine their shoe size while Beckett and Lanie quickly perused the wall display of boys’ sneakers and sandals. The lead detective wanted a pair of sturdy shoes for each of the boys, as well as a comfortable pair of sandals for the oppressively hot days like this one. Once she and Lanie had agreed on four sets, Beckett took the time to inspect a pair of high-heeled boots that had caught her eye as they entered the store. She might not be a rampant clothes shopper, but shoes were one of her few weaknesses. 

Castle still hadn’t arrived by the time Beckett finished making her purchases. She checked to see if she had any missed messages to explain why his allotted ten minutes had multiplied into thirty, but she had none. She slipped her phone back into her pocket as Kevin tugged on her arm. “Can we go home now?” he asked in a small voice. His ability to disguise his ill-being had rapidly deteriorated over the last half hour. 

“Yes, we just have to find Castle. Hold on five more minutes, baby boy.”

“Kate, why don’t you take him over to one of those benches? I saw some vending machines not far from here. I’ll get us some drinks,” offered Lanie. 

Beckett managed to claim a bench just after a bored-looking gentleman reunited with his female companion. She sat down near one end and coaxed Kevin into stretching out next to her with his head in her lap. He was just miserable enough to agree with lying down in the middle of the loud mall. Javier sat on her other side, leaning against her shoulder. He kept a close eye on his partner while Beckett scanned the crowd as well as she could from her seated position, hoping to catch sight of Castle. She located her phone again and sent him a questioning text message. 

Of course, the thick-walled building had poor reception, which wasn’t helped by the sheer number of people trying to snag their share of the limited signal. It took a full minute for her message to send, followed by a condescending chirp that informed her that all of her bars were taking a break. With an irritated sigh, Beckett brushed her hand over Kevin’s forehead. The heat radiating from his pale skin was undeniable. She cursed her luck and the decision to leave their backpack with Castle. 

Lanie returned with a trio of bottled waters. Kevin made a low sound of unhappiness when Beckett maneuvered him into a slouched position so she could force him to drink some of the cool beverage. Lanie split her bottle with Javier. “Any luck finding Castle?”

“Not yet,” answered Beckett. She rested her chin on the crown of Kevin’s head. He slowly sipped at the bottle she held to his mouth, his sweaty hands joining hers in supporting the drink. Lanie lifted Kevin’s feet so she could sit on the wood slats as well. “We could leave without him but I don’t know if Kevin can walk down to the subway.”

“I’ll try him again,” offered Lanie. She dialed Castle’s number on her own phone. She frowned when it went to voicemail. “I wonder where he went off to.”

“Probably flirting with naïve fans of his,” said Javier darkly. Beckett jabbed him lightly in the side with her elbow. 

“I think Kevin’s had enough water for now,” said Lanie. “You can let him lie down again.” Lanie scooted as close to the edge of the seat as she could so the Irishman could rest his head in Beckett’s lap again. His furrowed brow glistened with sweat and he curled around his upset stomach. Beckett felt horrible for keeping him out past his limit. She vowed to do a better job keeping track of his health the next time she brought him with her. 

She tried reaching her boyfriend once more. To her relief, he finally answered, though he sounded annoyed. “I’m on my way, Kate,” he said shortly. “I got held up by a so-called fan, but really the guy just gave me the creeps.” Beckett immediately tensed and looked about herself suspiciously.

“Just hurry,” she said. “Kevin’s fever returned and he’s barely holding on. We’re on one of the benches outside the shoe store.”

“I’ll be there as soon as possible,” he promised. 

Javier wiggled under Beckett’s right arm and wrapped his free hand around her waist. He continued nursing the water bottle held in his other. She squeezed him gently, though most of her attention remained on Kevin. She doubted that the Irishman was actually asleep - it was much too loud - but his eyes were closed and his breathing shallow as he fought down nausea. Lanie rhythmically rubbed his back, trying to ease some of the tension that Beckett could sense in her younger partner’s body.

The famous fiction author finally broke through the crowd. He barely paused as he handed the backpack off to Lanie and then lifted Kevin off the bench. Kevin wrapped both of his arms around Castle’s neck and rested his heavy head on the older man’s shoulder. Unlike when he was four, Castle had to support the boy with both arms as Kevin’s legs settled around his waist. The writer rocked slightly as he cooed, “There’s Daddy’s miserable little boy. It’s okay now. I’ll make up for Mommy’s ineptitude.”

“Really, Castle?” Beckett rolled her eyes as she stood up. “Wasn’t ‘Daddy’ the one who took five times longer than he was supposed to in the electronics store?”

Castle frowned introspectively as he regarded his girlfriend. He continued to shift his weight from one foot to the other distractedly. “I lost track of time because some ‘dapper old gent’ was a fan of my work and wouldn’t leave me alone,” he said. His accent was really atrocious. “When I realized how much time had passed, I tried to politely break off the conversation but he wouldn’t go away. He was quite the character though: three piece suit complete with fancy cane.”

The description sounded kind of familiar. Beckett looked over towards a stand selling cell-phone accessories to see if the man, who’d briefly caught her attention when she’d last scanned the area after Castle arrived, was still standing nearby. Sure enough, the man was inspecting a bedazzled iPhone case that would look garish with his semi-formal attire and old-fashioned cane. “Is that him?”

Castle had to turn his whole body to look in the direction that she pointed. “Actually, yes. Don’t strike up a conversation with him or you’ll spend the next hour discussing subtext. Can you believe that he wanted to debate about the ‘author’s intent’ in Storm Fall with me? The author?”

“Castle,” said Javier nervously. His earlier derision completely forgotten, he ducked behind the taller man and got a firm hold on the back of Castle’s shirt. “That’s him.”

“Who?” asked the lovers simultaneously. “You know him, Javi?” inquired Beckett. 

“That’s the agent from the woods. Something Davis,” he replied hurriedly. 

“The agent?” Beckett couldn’t figure out about whom Javier was talking. She looked inquiringly at Lanie, but the other woman was equally confused. There couldn’t have been an actual federal employee involved in the kidnapping, could there?

“Shit,” said Castle, understanding Javier’s cryptic reference more easily. “Kate, he’s the one Rayford tried to sell the boys to. He’s a buyer’s agent. Javier told me and Sorensen about him while we were at the hospital.”

“That bastard.” The edges of Beckett’s vision turned red and she reached instinctively for her badge which was clipped to her belt even though she was off-duty. “Stay here.”

“Kate, he’s a witch,” warned Castle. “Damn it.” She barely caught his last epithet as she marched towards the man. She’d read Sorensen’s report about the resolved kidnapping so now that the association had been pointed out to her, she also knew who Saul Davis was. The image of the bruises decorating her younger partner’s throat flashed in her mind’s eye, fanning her anger. Davis was the one whose “master” wanted the boys to be older and the resulting spell was the reason Kevin was currently suffering in Castle’s arms. That part hadn’t been in the report, but she easily connected the dots. 

“Saul Davis?” She straightened her shoulders and glared at the older man. “You’re under arrest for--” 

She never had the chance to finish her statement. She barely registered his sudden move before a flash of light blinded her and her ears started to ring. She had to drop to her haunches before her balance betrayed her. She clasped her hands over her ears as if that would stop the deafening siren sound battering the inside of her head. It felt like hours passed before the sound stopped and she was blinking dark spots out of her vision. In reality, she was already rising to her full height by the time Lanie reached her side. Castle and the boys weren’t far behind. 

Of course, Davis was nowhere to be seen. 

“Kate? Kate, are you okay?” Lanie grabbed her friend’s arm in concern. 

“Did you see which way he went?” demanded the detective. All Beckett could see were hundreds of oblivious shoppers. 

“He headed towards the north entrance, but he’s long gone,” said Castle. “We need to get home and you can call Bianca.”

“Are you all right?” asked Lanie insistently. 

“I’m fine,” Beckett said dismissively. “I don’t know what that asshole did, but it felt like a flash-bang.”

“It didn’t _look_ like anything,” said Lanie. “One second you were confronting him and the next you’ve dropped to the floor and he’s high-tailing it into the crowd.”

Beckett swore mildly. “You’re right, let’s go.” She and Lanie collected the momentarily abandoned shopping bags and the backpack. Castle adjusted his hold on Kevin, who looked like the altercation had barely penetrated his wretched haze. Javier stayed within the writer’s shadow, anxiously watching for any other witches to appear. 

Instead of making their way to the underground station on the lowest level of the mall, the group headed towards the row of taxis parked out front. Beckett found a van and helped the cabbie load their purchases while Castle settled in with the boys on the bench seat in the back. Beckett and Lanie took the two captain’s chairs. Fortunately, the cab driver was able to find a quick route back to SoHo. 

It wasn’t until they were back in the loft, with the door locked and all of the windows checked, that Beckett could finally relax slightly. Castle and Lanie tended to Kevin while the lead detective called Bianca’s cell-phone. 

The older woman answered just before the call went to voicemail. “Katherine, I’m pleased to hear from you. How are your boys faring?”

“They’re fine,” she said dismissively. “I met one of your witchy buddies today.”

“Oh?” It was clear that Bianca had noted the sarcasm in her voice. 

“Saul Davis. Do you know him?”

“Where did you encounter him?” 

“He confronted Castle while we were out.”

“What did he say to your boyfriend?”

“He just pretended to be a fan and wanted to discuss one of Castle’s books. He followed Castle back to me and the boys later on. Javier recognized him. When I approached him, he threw something in my face that disoriented me.”

“Stay away from him, Katherine,” said Bianca. “He’s associated with people far more dangerous than the Bellefontes.”

“He committed a crime and I fully intend to arrest him,” Beckett countered. 

“He knows who you are, Katherine. You must keep your distance.”

“He tried to buy my partners off of Rayford. I’ll keep my distance when he’s rotting in jail.”

“Dear, I’m not telling you this to make your job difficult. Let the Council handle him and his benefactor. You just focus on your friends. Is the younger one feeling any better yet?”

Beckett didn’t want to heed Bianca’s advice. The witch seemed to hold Beckett’s capabilities in very low regard and it irked the detective to no end. The only thing preventing her from completely going off on the older woman was the niggling voice in the back of her mind which insisted that Bianca actually was concerned for the safety of Beckett’s impromptu family. Therefore, she grit her teeth and answered the question. 

“He’s feverish right now. Apparently he wasn’t ready for an outing yet, even though he was fine all morning.”

“Just keep him cool and comfortable,” said Bianca gently. “You’ll figure out his endurance level quickly enough. What about your precocious little soldier?”

“Javi? He’s already regretting his choice to stay small.” She couldn’t stop the slight upturn of the corner of her mouth as she remembered the scene in the department store. 

“Well, it was a very noble thing for him to do. Don’t tease him too much.” Beckett wondered how Bianca guessed at the reason for Javier’s regret. She wasn’t afforded the opportunity to ask when Bianca continued speaking. “I need to go for now, dear, but I’ll speak with you later tonight. Keep the children close to you and for goodness sake, stay away from Davis and his associates.”

“Then they better stay away from us,” the detective said heatedly. Bianca made a small sound of agreement and then ended the call. Beckett sighed and tossed her phone onto the kitchen island. The lost feeling that had overtaken her briefly in the boys’ clothing department returned, but this time it wasn’t the task of selecting outfits that seemed so daunting. It had been a long time since she’d felt so out of her element. She ran her hands over her face and sighed.

xXx

Castle yawned as the end credits of _The Fellowship of the Ring_ started to scroll. He was in much the same position he’d been in that morning, except that now he was weighted down on two sides. It was a tight squeeze for the grown man and two boys but he didn’t mind greatly. He knew that Kevin and Javier each took comfort in his presence and he was more than willing to indulge them. Besides, being held down in the recliner meant he couldn’t possibly help his industrious girlfriend fold the boys’ new clothes, fresh out of the wash that he had helped her do while Kevin slept off his fever. He also took it as a sign that Javier had forgiven him for the scene in the underwear section of the department store. Castle wondered how far he could push the Hispanic detective’s patience before he was once more forced to sleep with his eyes open.

“Hey, Javi,” Castle whispered. He lifted his arm from around the eleven-year-old’s back to brush his palm over Javier’s short, dark hair. “You awake?”

“Mm hm.” The boy stretched as much as he could in the tight space and lifted his chin so he could see Castle’s face. Kevin shifted too, though he left his heavy head resting on the writer’s shoulder. 

“So, you know how you chose to remain small with your partner for a while longer?”

“Yes.” Javier sat up now, automatically assuming that Castle was setting up to annoy him again. Really, the veteran had no faith in him. 

“Well, that means that you’ll be subject to the same rules and responsibilities as your little brother.”

“What responsibilities?” asked Javier. His suspicious expression was almost cute except for the fact that it always seemed to be directed at Castle. 

“Doing everything in your power to make me look good as your primary male role model,” replied Castle flippantly. “But that’s beside the point right now. I promised Kevin that I’d love him and support him like my own son, and I’ll make the same promise to you if you’ll have me as a ruggedly handsome father figure.”

“Okay?” Now, instead of suspicious, Javier was starting to look a little nervous. Castle pondered on that for a minute, until Javier prodded him expectantly. “What?” The writer, looking at the smooth caramel skin, the bow-shaped pink lips, and the expressive chocolate brown eyes framed with thick black lashes, couldn’t imagine how any warm-blooded human could abandon Javier and his mother. While Javier, like Kate, kept his feelings close to his heart, it was obvious to Castle that Javier’s biological father was a sore subject. It made Castle want to whack the unknown man upside the head with a _Parenting for Dummies_ book. 

Castle cleared his throat. “I would never let one of my children miss any rite of passage, even if some crazy witch kidnaps him and jacks with his physical age. That being said, I have contacted the tooth fairy and--”

“Oh my god.” Javier dropped his forehead to Castle’s chest in order to hide his face and covered his ears with his hands. As if that would stop Castle. The writer only hoped that the move had hurt Javier’s hard head more than Castle’s poor abused collar bone. In the spirit of being a good father figure, Castle soldiered on in spite of his pain. 

“And she has agreed to still visit you, even though you lost your tooth somewhere between Southampton and Vermont.”

“Castle, wasn’t your speech about cartoon characters this afternoon enough humiliation for one day?” Javier was looking at him again, pleadingly. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Castle. “I made some pretty good points, if I do say so myself. And besides, being visited by the generous tooth fairy in the privacy of your own bedroom…”

“That’s a matter of opinion,” muttered Javier, probably thinking about the innocent baby monitor still standing proudly on the nightstand in the guestroom.

“…is not embarrassing. Anyway, she hinted as to what a first lost tooth might be worth and I think you’ll be happy with your reward.” Castle smiled winningly at the eleven-year-old. 

“What about Kevin? By now, he would have lost most of his baby teeth, too.”

“Leave me out of this,” mumbled the blond, who appeared to be following the conversation after all. 

“It’s different. He didn’t actually lose one while under my roof.”

“Technically, I didn’t either.”

“No, you’re not allowed to cross-examine me and use any of your detective Jedi mind tricks. She’s coming tonight, whether you like it or not.” 

“Can I at least make one condition?” asked Javier. 

“It depends. What is it?”

“While you’re creeping around in our room in the middle of the night, can you at least _not_ dress up as a fairy?” Javier’s little cheeks were rosy under his dark complexion and he avoided eye contact while making his request. 

Castle needed a second to overcome his mild surprise at the request. To think, they accused Kevin of having the wild imagination between the two. “Um… first of all, I’m going to be fast asleep in my bed when she comes, most likely, and two, I don’t even have a fairy costume.”

“I’m not actually six, or eleven, or whatever,” argued Javier, once more able to look the writer in the eye. “I know how this works. I have nieces and nephews.”

“You’re obviously mistaken, buddy. I hope the tooth fairy still comes with you denying her existence.”

“Are your concussion symptoms bothering you? You seem to be delusional.”

“Very funny.” Castle tried to tickle the boy but the angle was too acute and he couldn’t reach. He was saved from Javier’s retaliation by Kate’s entrance into the office. 

“Oh good, your movie’s finished,” said the lead detective. “Bianca invited herself over to check on the boys. She’ll be here in twenty minutes.”

“Did you tell her that the kids are fine and she doesn’t have to inconvenience herself?” asked Castle. He directed all of his strength to his abdomen muscles and sat up with an exaggerated groan. The shrunken detectives grudgingly slid off the chair to give him room to stand up. 

“Or inconvenience us, you mean?” clarified Kate knowingly. “I did tell her that we were fine, but she insisted. Hopefully I can pry some information out of her about Davis and his benefactor while she’s here.”

“Now that I know who he is, I feel a little dirty after our conversation. I can’t believe I talked to that slime-ball for nearly thirty minutes and he was the cause of our current predicament.” Castle shuddered internally. He knew that it was impossible for him to have known that the man was anything more than the fan he professed to be. Still, Javier had described the cane-wielding agent to him and Sorensen. Castle should have made the connection.

“You couldn’t have made the connection, Rick,” said Kate. She touched his elbow briefly. “Now that I know about his magical flash-bang trick, I’ll be more prepared the next time I meet him and he won’t evade arrest.”

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.   
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art.


	54. Third Friday Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Bianca comes to visit...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Fifty-Four

Javier tugged on Castle’s hand, drawing the writer’s attention downward. Castle was secretly thrilled that the boys naturally gravitated towards him when feeling threatened by the slew of witches interested in them. Kate didn’t give any indication that she was jealous, or even noticed, but he found it hard to believe that she didn’t. 

“What’s up?” Castle asked, briefly squeezing Javier’s little fingers. 

“I’m hungry.”

“But we just ate dinner before the movie,” argued the writer. 

“That was two hours ago.” 

Castle wondered if Javier wasn’t just trying to change the subject. Castle couldn’t blame him, really. Giving in to the boy’s desire, Castle played along. “Are you hungry, squirt?” he asked, looking down to his other side. If anyone could claim to be hungry, it was the nine-year-old who had only picked at his very grown up meal of dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets and baked French fries.

“I want to watch the next movie,” said Kevin. 

“That doesn’t answer my question. Besides that, apparently Bianca is coming to visit and it’s already late.”

“I don’t want to talk to the witches. All they can do for me is make my situation worse and I’d rather they not.”

“I know it seems that way, Kev, but Bianca and Randy are our only hope of undoing this mess. I’m not giving up on the chance that you’ll regain enough magical tolerance to be returned to normal sooner than later.” Kate reached out for her younger partner, but Kevin shied away, opting to sit on the edge of the ottoman and frown at his bare toes. Kate recovered from the rebuff by pulling her hand back and using it to tuck an imaginary lock of hair behind her ear. 

“Kevin,” said Javier hesitantly. He dropped Castle’s hand and took a step toward his partner. When Kevin didn’t give any outward sign of opposition to Javier’s proximity, the Hispanic detective assumed a similar seated position on the ottoman, his shoulder only a few inches from the Irishman’s. “You can’t give up on this. You’re the one who has all of the eternal optimism. If you stop believing in the best possible outcome, what chance do the rest of us have?”

“I guess it’s hard to be optimistic about ever getting better when a simple outing makes me so ill.”

“That’s because we pushed you too hard, kiddo,” said Castle. “You’ve only been out of the hospital for two days. You’re not supposed to make a miraculous recovery from the anemia. And speaking of that, it’s time for another dose of your meds. My understanding is that even if Bellefonte Two changes his mind and undoes the retrogression spell, you’ll still have to cope with the anemia as an adult. There’s no rush to get better on that end.”

His words didn’t seem to make much of an impression on the nine-year-old but Castle didn’t take it personally. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what the kid was thinking or feeling. He sensed that the boy’s more youthful emotions were making a bid for expression but the detective was valiantly resisting the urge to cry or throw a fit. 

“Castle’s right,” said Kate softly. This time, Kevin let her thread her fingers through his dark blonde hair, smoothing the long strands away from his downturned face. “Come on.” She nudged his shoulder until he apathetically stood up. Together, the four made their way to the kitchen. 

Castle measured out Kevin’s medication and handed the tumbler to the nine-year-old. Kevin drank it as quickly as he could and chased it down with the glass of milk Kate handed him. She admonished the blond to take his time, worried that the dairy product might still adversely affect him after being starved for three days. To Castle and Kate’s relief, it didn’t seem to do him any harm. 

Castle hadn’t even noticed Javier duck into the pantry. The eleven-year-old emerged now, holding a box of Oreos. “Can I eat some of these?” He pulled out the plastic sleeve of cookies without giving anyone a chance to respond. 

“Sure, help yourself,” said Castle dryly. “See if you can finagle a glass of milk from Kate, too.” The lead detective picked up on his hint and poured a glass for Javier. Seeing Javier dunk the two-toned cookie into his glass woke up Castle’s sweet tooth and he reached for an Oreo as well. “Kev?”

The younger detective shook his head and pulled his milk towards himself. He seemed happy enough to watch Javier enjoy the treat, so Castle left him alone. The writer started to ask, “When is Bianca supposed to arr--” but the doorbell interrupted him. Kate wiped her hands on her thighs, having also indulged in the snack, and headed to the front door. She cautiously checked the peep hole before unlocking the door and pulling it open. 

“Good evening, dear,” greeted the white witch warmly as she swept past Kate and into the loft. “Mr. Castle.” She punctuated her salutation with a short dip of her chin. “And my sweet little ones.” Bianca patted Javier’s shoulder with her free hand. Her other arm was laden down with a canvas bag filled with an assortment of goodies, including a refill of her purple all-health concoction. She unloaded her bag on the island. 

“You’re here early,” mentioned Kate. 

“My previous engagement ended more precipitously than expected,” replied Bianca. She pulled out a book from her canvas bag and set it on the counter next to Javier. “This is a book on the history of magic. You may or may not find it interesting.” Even if Kate didn’t want to peruse the old-fashion looking book, Castle definitely wanted to flip through the pages. Javier eyed it like it might suddenly jump up and bite him. 

“Right now, I’m very interested in the current affairs of your fellow magic-users,” said Kate. 

“Yes, yes,” Bianca said glibly. “In due time, dear.” She next retrieved a new, leather-bound journal. “I know that you are frustrated, _a leanbh_ , with all that has happened. I find that writing out my thoughts helps clear my mind and eases tensions.” She held the empty book out to Kevin. He warily accepted the gift, keeping his focus on the witch. Castle moved to stand behind the boy’s barstool so he could also inspect the journal. It was a beautiful item, with decorative stitching in the leather that reminded the writer of a proud fortress against a backdrop of mighty oak trees. 

Castle nudged Kevin when the boy didn’t say anything after a few seconds of leery contemplation of the older woman. Reminded of his manners, Kevin barely whispered his thanks. Bianca patted his knee and then went back into her bag to find a small switch blade with a handsomely carved onyx handle and an intricately sewn leather case. This she handed to Javier, who took his gift more readily than Kevin had. 

“The knife is enchanted to protect you from black magic. Of course, it won’t help you if you drink potion-laced lemonade, but it can stop small, short-distance spells. Use it to protect yourself and your friends, _tesoro_.” Bianca watched Javier like a fond grandmother as he pulled the blade from its case and flipped it open.

“It’s very nice, Bianca, but don’t you think he’s a little young for that?” Kate reached for the knife but Javier refused to relinquish it. 

“Of course not, Katherine. After the remarkable courage and dedication he showed this morning, I know he will handle it just fine.” 

“I’m not eleven,” Javier added indignantly. He moved away from Kate so he could show Kevin and Castle his new acquisition. 

“Here, Katherine, I brought you some more of this.” Bianca pulled out the thermos of purple drink and offered it to the detective. Kate, still keeping one eye on Javier, dutifully retrieved the first container and traded it to the witch. Bianca looked happy that it was nearly gone. 

“Come now, dears, let’s see how you’re doing and then I’ll leave you be while Katherine and I talk shop.” Bianca motioned towards the comfortable furniture in the living room. 

The group transitioned to the adjacent space. Kate claimed one of the armchairs. No doubt thinking that her spot was the furthest removed from the witch, Kevin joined her. Kate wrapped her arms loosely around his waist once he was settled on her lap, leaning back and supporting his head against her shoulder. She rested her cheek lightly against the side of his head as she watched Castle and Javier settle in on the couch. 

“I want to talk about the case, too,” said Javier once Bianca had regally sat down on the opposite end of the couch. “Beckett needs my help, even though I’m still small for the time being.”

“First, let’s talk about the retrogression spell,” said Bianca. “I won’t lie to you - I’m very curious about its effects. Others who have been under similar spells have suffered rather unfortunate ailments, especially after multiple castings. Apart from the damage to your friend’s bone tissue during the spell’s alteration, you appear to be fine.”

“That’s no small side-effect,” stated Castle. It was clear to him that the white witch’s purpose was to study the boys, now that Kate had adopted a more open-door policy with her partners. Despite Randy’s opinion that Bianca, in the end, could be trusted, he wasn’t quite willing to take that leap of faith. Besides, who was to say that the doctor was trustworthy? It wasn’t like Castle to be so skeptical of others, but the last two weeks had brutally shaken his view of the world, no matter how open to the supernatural he’d been previously.

“No, it’s not,” agreed Bianca. “Still, I would have expected more numerous complications. Has anything else been physically amiss since the initial retrogression?”

Castle rewound the past two weeks in his mind and realized that Bianca did have a point. While emotionally the boys had a tendency to revert back to the maturity of their forced youth, physically they were perfectly healthy little kids. Except for one thing…

“Kevin has had zero appetite since Nora cursed them,” said Kate. Once again, she had reached the same conclusion as her boyfriend at virtually the same time. “That’s not typical for him. He ate just fine as an adult.” Kevin huffed faintly as the two lovers once more picked on his eating habits. 

“We just assumed it was due to the stress, but is it possibly another side effect of the spell?” asked Castle.

“Possibly,” said Bianca with a nod. She stood and moved to stand in front of Kate’s chair. “May I?”

Kevin didn’t have much room to shy away from the witch’s hands, given that he was already fully reclined against Kate, but his body language was clear as he pressed back against his partner. Kate instinctively tightened her hold on him, crossing her arms protectively over his chest. 

“I promise I have no intention of using any magic on you,” said Bianca. She held her hands up, palms forward, to reinforce her honorability. Kate’s lips practically touched the shell of Kevin’s little ear as she murmured soothing encouragements. Whatever she whispered seemed to work. Kevin gradually relaxed and Kate released her backward hug to allow him to sit upright. She rested her hands on his narrow hips to steady his balance and reassure him that she was watching out for him.

Bianca gave him a sad smile before gently cupping his face. “Look at me, _a leanbh_.” Kevin complied. Castle always found it fascinating to watch how people’s eyes rapidly moved as they studied something, even if the focus of their attention was stationary. Kevin was no different. His blue eyes tracked swiftly back and forth as he took in the woman’s visage. Bianca steadily held his gaze, though she almost seemed to be looking into him, instead of simply at him. 

Nearly a full minute passed before Bianca blinked and leaned back slightly. She ran her thumb softly over his left cheekbone before dropping her hands. “I would agree with you that his loss of appetite is mental and emotional. On a positive note, I think his tolerance for magic is already beginning to rebound. Make sure you continue to supplement his diet with the herbal remedy.” She looked between Castle and Kate as she delivered her prognosis. 

“Did you see if his anemia is improving?” asked Kate. She absently wrapped her arms around the Irishman as he settled against her once more. 

“You would need Randall’s opinion on that.”

“If his tolerance is better, you can make him big again,” said Javier. He scooted closer to Bianca once she was seated again on the couch. 

“It’s a good sign, but right now it is still too low to try such an intense spell.” Bianca patted the cushion right beside her. “Let me see how you are faring, _mijo_.” Javier didn’t need any prodding from Kate to agree to Bianca’s magic scan, though he didn’t look overly thrilled. He sat as still as a statue as she gave him the same treatment as Kevin. 

“Well?” asked Castle when she finished. He reached over to tug on the back of Javier’s shirt and direct the boy to shift back to the writer’s end of the couch. Javier affably complied, already back to inspecting his new switch blade. 

“He’s fine,” replied Bianca. “If I did not know about the retrogression spell, nor could I sense his mind’s maturity, I would not know he wasn’t only eleven.” She frowned thoughtfully. “It is quite the peculiar phenomenon.”

“So now that you’ve gotten your fill of studying the boys, let’s talk about Saul Davis and his link to Rayford Bellefonte,” said Kate.

Bianca clearly hadn’t appeased her endless curiosity about the retrogression spell, but she digressed nonetheless. “Davis is a low-ranking member of the Council. You might have met him previously at the visitation for Nora Bellefonte, though he’s rather recluse most of the time. I learned since then that he has fallen into the company of dangerous witches, particularly acting as an negotiator on the behalf of others in illegal transactions.”

“Like human trafficking,” said Kate bitterly. She glared momentarily into the middle distance, then refocused on Bianca. 

“Yes, and the unsanctioned transfer of dark magic ability. If he was working with the unknown necromancer at the time of the Bellefonte matriarch’s death, he may have also been the go-between of Rayford and Dresden.”

“Dresden? You just said he was unknown,” said Castle. 

“It’s a name used in magical circles. It’s equivalent to ‘John Doe’,” clarified Bianca. 

“Why don’t you neutralize him like you did Rayford, if he’s palling around with nefarious characters?” asked Kate. Castle liked her adjective choice. 

“I didn’t ‘neutralize’ Rayford,” said Bianca. “I destroyed his ill-gotten powers but he still retains his natural abilities and there’s nothing stopping him from striking a new deal with Dresden. I do not think that is likely, however. I imagine that a witch as powerful as the necromancer would not be very forgiving that his powers were once squandered.”

“And you did that in Vermont…”

“Oh, don’t complain to me about not tromping through the woods with you,” said Bianca dismissively. “You accuse me of underestimating you, but when I do rely on your perceived capabilities, you are still unhappy.” Kate tried to hide her pout against Kevin’s shoulder. “Anyway, I would not simply ‘neutralize’ Davis, either. The Council is in a precarious situation and it is crucial that we all proceed cautiously. The man who was murdered at the visitation - Winston Kennedy - was a very high-ranking member and selecting his successor is a delicate matter.”

“What about discovering how many other people he’s murdered in their hospital beds?”

“Really, Katherine. You’ll not get far with such a vengeful attitude.”

“I’m not vengeful. I believe in justice.”

Bianca shook her head and smirked knowingly. Kate rolled her eyes. Castle looked at the clock and wondered if it was too early to suggest that the boys go to bed before the women started a verbal sparring match. Fortunately, it seemed that Bianca wasn’t in the mood to argue semantics with the detective.

“Besides the re-organization of the Council leadership, many of the members are interested in the situation with Bellefonte and the retrogression. There hasn’t been this much upheaval and conflict with the non-magical world in decades. Usually we are quite adept at self-moderation,” explained Bianca. 

“It’s one thing to allow you and Randy access to the boys, but I don’t want anyone else coming near them,” said Castle. Honestly, if it weren’t for keeping communication lines open with the doctor witch so he could turn the boys back into adults, Castle wouldn’t let any witches near his kids. Randy had been helpful enough during the search for the boys, but Castle’s faith in the magical community was very thin.

“I quite agree,” said Bianca. “It may be beneficial, however, if Katherine were to meet some of the members and ease their fears about the involvement of the New York Police Department.”

Kate immediately perked up at the idea of getting a shot at the witches. Castle felt dread pool in his stomach. It seemed like a bad idea to him. It was dangerous and pointless. “Kate doesn’t speak for all of the NYPD,” he said. “She can’t make you any promises.”

“Castle,” said Kate irritably. He didn’t care if she was annoyed with him as long as she was safe. The same went for his little boys. 

“I understand,” said Bianca. “Their concern lies more in the direction of how many law enforcement agencies are aware of their activity.”

“If they weren’t doing illegal things, they wouldn’t have to worry,” said Kate.

“Regardless,” said the white witch. “I don’t think it could make matters any worse if you attended an open meeting. I intend to invite Randall, as well.”

“When is it?”

“Sunday afternoon,” said Bianca. “I can meet you here at two. The meeting starts at three.”

“Perfect,” said Kate. Castle didn’t like this development at all. He’d try his hardest between then and now to talk her out of attending the meeting. 

“I want to go,” said Javier. 

“Absolutely not,” stated the writer. He would put his foot down there.

“But--”

“No.”

To his immense relief, Javier dropped it. Still, he sulked over Castle’s firm decree, much to Bianca’s amusement.

“I’m sure Katherine will tell you all about it, _tesoro_ ,” soothed the white witch. “I shouldn’t tarry much longer. Do you have any questions about the spell before I leave?”

Kate and Javier each slowly shook their heads. Kevin was picking at a tassel on the throw draped over the arm of Kate’s chair and failed to respond altogether. Castle, on the other hand, was reminded of something that had been tickling the back of his mind for a while. 

“I have a question,” said the writer. “Really, it’s more of an observation.”

“Yes?”

“I don’t think I have ever heard either you or Randy refer to or address the boys by their actual names, yet you call Kate by her given name all of the time. Why is that?”

“Ah, you picked up on that.” Bianca grinned cheekily at Javier, whose curiosity had burned away his displeasure at not being allowed to go to the witch meeting with Kate. “It is our custom to not directly address children. Tradition holds that one can exert influence over another by using given names, especially children who are easily deceived. Therefore, only close family members use a child’s name, to protect them. While I doubt there’s any veracity in the old stories, it has become our culture and old habits die hard, I suppose. Nowadays, it’s considered rude to use a child’s name unless you’ve been given permission by his parents.”

That made sense to Castle. There were plenty of cultures who believed in the spiritual power of names. He realized that by referring to the boys with pet names, Bianca and Randy had been trying to respect his and Kate’s role as primary guardians of Javier and Kevin while they were cursed. “Well, thank you for that,” he said, knowing Bianca would understand his gratefulness. 

“You’re welcome, dear.”

“We’re not little kids.” Castle groaned and dropped his head back on the couch. “Castle. Castle, are you listening to me?”

“No, Javi, I’m not. And it’s obvious that using your name has granted me no influence over you because you continue to pester me about how old you think you are.” He snaked an arm around the boy, who’d moved to kneel on the cushion next to the writer and prod the older man’s shoulder to get his attention. Javier let out a short “oomph” as he landed across Castle’s legs, thanks to the writer’s quick arm jerk. 

“Ahh, not again,” shrieked Javier as Castle dug his fingers into the boy’s sides. Castle only tickled him briefly, stopping when Javier started to roll towards the edge of the couch. Javier stuck his tongue out at the writer. 

“Is that what grown up police detectives do?” 

“Uh huh.” Well, Javier did have a point. Castle had been on the receiving end of plenty of those from Kate. Still, she was usually flirting when she did that. 

“Well, Mr. Grown Up, why don’t you be a gentleman and walk Ms. Bianca to the door.” Castle helped Javier sit up. He didn’t even realize that he’d kept his hands hovering protectively near the eleven-year-old as Javier slid off the leather couch until the detective was moving out of his range to shyly stand before the white witch. 

“Thank you for the switch blade,” he said quietly. 

“You’re welcome.” Bianca’s expression was warm and inviting as she regarded the shrunken detective. If it weren’t for his girlfriend’s frustrations at dealing with the older woman, Castle would never imagine that she could be so evasive based on the way she interacted with the boys. He wondered if her fondness for them would fade once the curse was broken. 

Kate prodded Kevin to let her rise as well. Like his partner, he diffidently thanked her for the journal. Bianca gently squeezed his right arm, just above his elbow. “I know the retrogression spell has irrevocably altered your life, _a leanbh_ , but never forget that you have dear friends who love you immensely. I can think of very few men with the courage to make the same choice as your partner. In time, you’ll find that this situation is not as unbearable as it seems right now. We all learn to cope with tragedies.”

Kevin nodded slowly and wrapped his arms about himself. Castle, unable to bear seeing his kid look so miserable, draped an arm around his shoulders and pulled the nine-year-old into a sideways hug. He maintained the contact as they all escorted their guest to the exit. Fortunately, Bianca wasn’t one to dally, so she departed after one last good-bye. The clock started chiming as the Castle locked the deadbolt. He glanced at the timepiece and felt a chill run up his spine as he realized that exactly two weeks had now passed.

It was nine o’clock in the evening. 

_to be continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.  
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art.


	55. Third Saturday Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the family heads uptown...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Fifty-Five

Javier transitioned casually from sleep to awareness, despite the comfortable mattress’ attempt to draw him back down into slumber. He yawned and instantly regretted it when he got a mouthful of dark blonde hair. Javier rolled onto his back, freeing Kevin from the older detective’s protective embrace, and tried to spit out the imaginary hairs that felt like they were all over his tongue. Once the ghosted feeling was gone, Javier yawned anew and this time only got a lungful of cool, conditioned air. 

The Hispanic detective sat up and leaned over his partner. Kevin was still sleeping, though Javier could tell from his breathing pattern that he was also getting close to waking. They’d gone to bed the night before shortly after Bianca left, despite Kevin’s request to watch the second _Lord of the Rings_ movie. Therefore, Javier wasn’t surprised that he’d naturally woken up around seven-thirty. Too many years as a soldier and then a homicide detective had conditioned him to be an early riser when well-rested. Kevin didn’t typically have that problem - he could sleep well past daybreak. 

Castle had vetoed starting a three and a half hour long movie after nine at night. Beckett was no help to their partner, but Javier had stated he didn’t mind watching the film if it made Kevin happy. Unfortunately, it seemed that he and Kevin each got one vote and Castle had infinity-billion, which really wasn’t fair. And it was obvious that Kevin was rubbing off on him in a bad way, because who even says “infinity-billion”? 

Speaking of autocratic writers… Javier turned his head so he could look down at the cotton filled pillow he’d been using just a few minutes ago. While pestering them during their nightly routine - Kevin and Javier were adults and did not need to be “put to bed” - Castle had handed the veteran a pretty pathetic cutout of a molar and told him to stick it under his pillow since he didn’t have his actual missing tooth. Javier argued that he’d lost an incisor but Castle insisted that the tooth fairy would still get the point. 

Javier then argued that he didn’t even want the dumb pixie to bother him, so if Castle was forcing this upon him, he should at least do it right. To which Castle had replied that Javier should be quiet and not argue with his creative genius. With a roll of his eyes, Javier slid the cutout under his pillow to the background sound of Beckett’s ill-concealed chuckles. 

There was no way that the bumbling author could have snuck into their room and switched out the decoy for a quarter or whatever the going rate was for oversized cardboard teeth. Javier had been a light sleeper since boot camp and as far as he could tell, the curse hadn’t changed that. The stupid fake molar still had to be under there. 

Which would be kind of disappointing, if Javier was honest with himself. He had succumbed to all of Castle’s hype, despite his best efforts to remain above it all. Well, if he peeked before Kevin woke up, no one would be privy to his expression when the last bit of his hope for a decent tooth fairy haul was crushed. What he’d do with twenty-five cents or maybe fifty cents if he was lucky, Javier didn’t know, but he wanted to see a shiny silver coin when he lifted the pillow. 

Afterwards, he’d retrain himself to not sleep through someone messing with his bedding because that was just unacceptable. 

With baited breath, Javier pinched the very edge of his pillowcase and slowly lifted it, uncovering the sheet below inch by inch. A corner of paper was the first thing to be revealed. It wasn’t the cardboard cutout, nor was it his anticipated coin. Annoyed by his feelings of rejection, Javier tossed the pillow up against the headboard and scooped up the plain white envelope. It wasn’t even sealed; just the flap was tucked into the rest of the envelope. He pried it open and dumped the contents onto the mattress. 

It didn’t take him long to recognize the narrow, glossy strips of paper as tickets, nor the embossed logo as that of the New York Yankees. His sentiments immediately swung back to eager anticipation as he picked up the top voucher. He found the section and seat number quickly. His eyes widened and he had to reread the numbers three times before he could accept that they really were for arguably one of the best locations in the stadium.

He bounced the bed a little in his excitement as he checked that the other four tickets were for the same area. Kevin blinked awake and immediately sensed Javier’s happiness. “What’s going on?” he asked groggily. 

“Look what the tooth fairy - I mean Castle! Look what Castle gave us.”

Kevin shifted to lie on his stomach, unwilling to commit yet to being vertical. He took the ticket Javier handed him and looked it over. “Wow, these are amazing seats. Better than the Knicks tickets he usually tries to bribe you with.”

“It’s too much, right? The best I ever got as a kid was like a dollar.”

“I think kids get more than that these days, but probably not baseball passes,” said Kevin. He handed the ticket back to Javier. “They’re for today, too.”

Javier hadn’t read the date on them. Kevin was correct, though. The Yankees were scheduled to play the Minnesota Twins at one o’clock. The stadium was way up in the Bronx, so they needed to start getting ready. “Come on, let’s go find Castle.”

“You go ahead. I’m still sleepy.”

“What’s wrong?” Javier frowned at his partner. 

“I’m sleepy, and not hungry, so you can wake me up after breakfast.”

“How can you sleep right now? I’m wide awake.”

“Just because you’re wired now doesn’t mean I have to be. They’re your tickets, Javi.”

Javier might have stuck his lower lip out a tiny bit, but he wasn’t pouting. “Kev, they’re basically _our_ tickets because I’m not going without you. There are five, anyway.”

“I know that. I promise I’ll be more excited when I wake up again, if you let me go back to sleep.” The Irishman returned to his previous sleeping position and pulled the thin cover up to his chin. 

“Are you not feeling well?”

“I’m fine, Javi. Go away.” Kevin tried to kick his partner, but his range was limited by the resistance of the covers. 

“Okay, okay. Get your beauty sleep, princess.”

“I will.” Kevin’s eyes slid shut and he sighed softly as he tried to slip back into his REM cycle. Javier watched him, looking for any signs of fever or nausea. His partner’s color seemed normal. The faint sprinkling of freckles over the bridge of his nose and his cheekbones stood out against his pale skin now, whereas they tended to fade out of sight when Kevin was flushed with a high temperature. “Stop staring at me,” Kevin complained after a minute, without opening his eyes. 

Javier huffed. “I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I thought you were sleeping.”

“I’m trying but you’re not helping.”

“If you say so. I’m just going to look at the tickets. They’re much easier on the eyes, anyway.” Javier flopped down on his back, forgetting that he’d pushed his pillow away. With a grumble, he reached for the displaced bedding and situated it comfortably under his head. When Kevin rolled onto his side, his preferred sleeping position, Javier turned his face towards the smaller boy. The blond’s back was to him, preventing Javier from easily identifying any symptoms related to Kevin’s anemia. 

No matter what Beckett, or the doctor, or anyone told him, Javier couldn’t help feeling partially responsible for Kevin’s condition. He kept thinking about how he had automatically assumed that the younger cop was just out of shape or admitting defeat too easily. Now that he’d read some of the literature the hospital had given Beckett and knew what the illness was doing to his partner, Javier regretted ever dragging Kevin out of that shack. The run through the woods, the tumble down the steep embankment, the belting… 

“Javi!”

“I’m not staring at you!”

The door to the room, which typically was left cracked open, suddenly swung inward to admit Castle and Beckett, who were still in their sleep clothes. Castle had a stupid grin on his face as he looked at the two cursed detectives. “Bickering already? It’s not even eight A.M. yet.”

“We’re not bickering,” said Javier. He sat up as the writer walked around the foot of the bed to find a seat on the edge, next to the eleven-year-old. Beckett leaned her hip against the low dresser to watch her friends interact and Kevin gave up on getting any more sleep by rolling onto his back to observe Castle’s antics. 

“So, did the tooth fairy bring you anything nice?” The teasing smile was back as Castle wrapped an arm around Javier’s shoulders and nearly knocked the younger male off balance with the unexpected side-hug. Javier managed to avoid falling completely over, though he was forced to lean against Castle’s side in order to remain as upright as he was. 

Javier held up the tickets. “I think you are misinformed when it comes to value of baby teeth.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Castle’s acting was really bad right now. “I didn’t buy you anything, it’s all from the friendly tooth collector. Let me see.” He plucked the glossy vouchers out of Javier’s hand and inspected the first one. “Hm, these are pretty good seats.”

“They’re amazing seats. Castle--”

The writer slapped his hand over Javier’s mouth to cut him off. It was tempting to poke out his tongue in order to gross out the older man enough to let him go, but that would require licking Castle, which Javier wasn’t willing to do. “I was instructed to tell you that you can give the tickets to whomever you’d like, but it would be in poor taste not to invite the person who orchestrated the tooth fairy’s visit in the first place.”

Javier was finally able to pull down the writer’s hand in order to resume his complaint about the extravagant gift. “You didn’t have to pick the most expensive seats in the stadium, you know.”

“Okay, okay,” said Castle. He adjusted his hold on Javier so the boy could support more of his own weight, yet still remained under the author’s arm. “They might not be from the tooth fairy, but I was being honest when I said I didn’t buy them. They’re a gift from one of the Yankee higher-ups who wants me to include the team in another of my best-selling novels. I get them every year, to the game of my choice.”

“Oh.” That suddenly made his excitement surge again. He usually wasn’t this enthusiastic about baseball, so he attributed some of the emotion to the curse. Still, he was very much looking forward to the game.

“As an added bonus, it’s Military Appreciation Day. I thought you’d like that.”

“Yeah.” Javier took a good look at the slips of paper. “Thank you, Castle.”

“You’re welcome, buddy. So, who are the lucky four who get to join you on your adventure in the Bronx?”

“Kevin.”

“Well, that’s a given. Who else?”

“Lanie and Demming and Martha?”

Castle frowned. Javier bit his lower lip and kept his chin down, hiding his face from the writer’s view. “First of all,” said Castle in a wounded tone, “Martha hates baseball. Secondly, what did I tell you about the tooth fairy’s stipulation?”

“I’m just kidding,” said Javier. He looked up now so Castle could see his smirk. “Actually, I’d like it if just the four of us went, and maybe Alexis if she wanted. It would be kind of like a family…” He trailed off, suddenly feeling silly for his overly sentimental idea. 

“I think that’s a brilliant idea,” said Castle. He enveloped Javier in a full hug that made it difficult for the detective to breathe while being crushed against the older man’s chest. It was okay though, because Castle had sounded like he truly meant it and wasn’t just humoring the cursed cop. Really, if men like Richard Castle actually existed, what had Javier done to deserve such a dead-beat dad like his biological father?

“If we’re all going to a baseball game for which the gates open in a little under three hours, we should probably start getting around,” said Beckett. She pushed off of the dresser and moved to Kevin’s side of the bed. “You need a shower, baby boy. Up.”

“Are you going to make me wear a bunch of sunscreen?” he asked petulantly. 

“Yes,” answered Castle for his girlfriend. Beckett nodded in agreement. 

“Then what’s the point?”

“The point is that sunscreen doesn’t mask odors from smelly little kids.” Beckett tugged down the blanket and reached for Kevin’s arm to drag him off the comfy mattress if he didn’t get up himself. 

“I don’t smell.” The Irishman immediately looked over at his best friend for confirmation. Javier hadn’t picked up on any unpleasant scents so he shrugged. It didn’t help Kevin’s self-consciousness much. 

“Not yet,” Beckett admitted, “but that’s no excuse for poor hygiene. Hurry up, so Javi can have a turn, too.”

“I’ll go first,” Javier volunteered. If Beckett and Castle left to tend to their own daily routines, it would give Kevin another fifteen minutes to sleep. 

“Alright. You both better be out in the kitchen, clean, dressed, and covered with SPF in thirty minutes.”

“Are _you_ going to be ready in thirty minutes?” Javier didn’t think Beckett was as fastidious as Lanie or his sisters, but he found it hard to believe she could put herself together in that amount of time.

“Yes. Chop chop, I need to run a few errands on the way up there.”

“It better not be for clothes.”

“No, it’s not for clothes, Kevin.” She pinched his side. “Start moving.”

“Can’t we stay here with Castle and meet you there?” Javier wasn’t overly fond of the idea, either. Besides that, he didn’t want to exhaust Kevin like they had yesterday. Running errands on top of going to a baseball game sounded tiring enough to him and he wasn’t struggling with anemia.

“I need his help, too, so you’re stuck with us.”

“Castle.” Identical expressions of hope were directed at the writer. He looked like he was about to capitulate but the sound of Beckett clearing her throat stiffened his spine. 

“Sorry, kiddos. The number one rule of parenting is to not disagree with your partner in front of the children. My hands are tied.”

“Whipped,” muttered Javier.

“Okay, thirty minutes, starting now.” Beckett tapped on the back of her wrist and then she and Castle exited, leaving the cursed detectives to face down the clock.

xXx

Thirty-five minutes later, Javier and Kevin met Castle and Beckett in the kitchen. The lead detective presented the bowls of oatmeal and glasses of orange juice to her partners that Castle had prepared while she finished her own morning routine. She was glad to see that each of the cursed detectives was wearing one of the outfits they’d purchased yesterday.

His excitement at going to the baseball game seemed to have loosened Kevin’s appetite a bit and he tucked into the blueberry flavored instant oatmeal with the same vigor as Javier, though by the end he ate only half as much. Beckett could see the tiny speck of white near his jaw line, proof that he’d followed her instruction to put on sunscreen. She rubbed in the excess protection for him, earning a small sound of complaint at her mothering. 

“Where do we have to go before the game?” asked Javier around a mouthful of breakfast. 

“I need to swing by my place,” said Beckett. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

Javier swallowed and rolled his eyes. “Yes, mother.”

Castle, who had been on his cell-phone for the past ten minutes, ended his call and turned triumphantly to the group. “Alexis said that she is available to come to the game, too. I told her that we’d pick her up at her dorm, so we need to hurry up all that much more.”

“You guys almost done?” asked Beckett. She and Castle had eaten during the preparation of the early meal. 

“Yeah.” Kevin pushed his bowl across the slick island surface. 

“We’re not in that big of a hurry,” said Castle. He had picked up on Kevin’s rare willingness to eat, too, and didn’t want to stop the Irishman while he was on a roll. “Three more bites?” He pushed the oatmeal back to its original spot. 

Kevin looked at the soupy mess - Beckett had been a little enthusiastic with the milk - and sighed. He picked up his spoon again but made no effort to actually scoop any food into his mouth. Javier reached over and stuck his own flatware into Kevin’s bowl and quickly finished off the remaining oatmeal. “See, he’s done.”

Kevin grinned at his partner, which Javier returned. Castle sighed and removed the bowls to drop them into the sink and fill with water. Beckett lightly smacked Javier’s arm. In the essence of time, she didn’t cook up a new batch of the breakfast food and push Kevin to eat it, just to prove a point. Besides, she liked it when her younger partner was smiling and she doubted that three more mouthfuls of oatmeal were going to be the difference between satiation and starvation. 

“Go put your sandals on,” she said. The boys slid off of their barstools and hurried towards the front door. Beckett accepted the damp dishtowel from her boyfriend and wiped down the island. Once the minor cleanup was complete, she and Castle joined the boys at the shoe pile to locate their own footwear. Castle double-checked that he had put the tickets in their little backpack and then the quartet was on their way. 

She and Castle had debated between taking the subway and driving. In the end, they’d opted for the subway since Castle wasn’t sure if he’d have any luck parking, even though their special tickets had come with a temporary pass. Also, it would save them the trouble of trying to park near Beckett’s apartment or on Columbia’s campus. They’d barely walked a block towards the closest station to Castle’s loft and the detective felt as if someone was watching them. She looked around as surreptitiously as she could, both to avoid alarming her companions or tipping off their tail. No one familiar or suspicious was nearby. She tried to shake off the feeling by attributing it to the residual stress left over from the kidnapping. 

Her Tribeca apartment wasn’t that far via subway, so they were stepping out of the crowded and ripe underground station just fifteen minutes later. For as much as she loved Castle’s loft, especially now that it had become the official home of her unofficial family, there was something to be said for her stylish upper-story flat in the heart of the trendy neighborhood. The idea of returning to her own abode must have eased her tension. She no longer felt like someone was shadowing the group’s progress. She took a deep breath as they passed her favorite local coffee shop and felt her shoulders settle in relaxation. She didn’t feel the need to hold Javier’s little hand so tightly anymore, affording the Hispanic boy a bit more freedom as he took in the busy shops. Javier had been to her place many times previously, but she suspected that everything probably looked marginally different from the perspective of an eleven-year-old. 

Once in her apartment, they let the boys loose to explore while she and Castle headed for her tiny office. He pulled the fake adoption papers and case files for the boys out of the backpack and handed them to Beckett so she could secure them in her hidden desk drawer. There was no question that their adversaries knew where Castle lived, so she felt better keeping the documents in a less well-known location. 

“It’s a little dusty in here,” mentioned the writer teasingly as he ran his finger over a shelf on her bookcase. 

“Well, I haven’t been here much in the past two weeks to clean,” she replied cheekily. Even before the curse, she’d been spending more and more time at Castle’s place than her own. “Javier’s place was looking a bit neglected, too. I’d imagine that Kevin’s isn’t much better.”

“About the apartments…” Castle trailed off momentarily, trying to find his wording. He glanced through the wide doorway to check on the location of the boys. “When do you think we should bring up the topic of selling the ones that won’t be used anymore?” His voice was low enough that even Beckett could barely hear him. 

She frowned deeply and leaned against her desk. She’d been avoiding the topic in her own mind ever since she learned that Randy was not willing to break Kevin’s curse. She would have been forced to think about it yesterday, except that she’d fully expected Javier to move back into his own place until their heart-to-heart about him staying small for a while longer. It was still very likely that he’d return to adulthood sooner than later. He’d made the decision based on the hope that Kevin might be cleared for the counter spell in the near future. When that hope was extinguished, there was no reason for the veteran to remain cursed, no matter how badly he felt for his partner. 

But to sell Kevin’s apartment felt like admitting defeat. Beckett had never been one to give in to anything easily, and especially not something like this. “Not yet,” she said finally. “Not while there’s still a chance that he won’t actually have to grow up again. On that note though, both of their apartments could probably use a good cleaning.”

“I’ll look into that,” Castle promised, followed by a sigh. “Kate, I know how much you want things to work out for Kevin. We all do. I just don’t want you to be crushed if Randy never changes his mind.”

She nodded. She understood that he wasn’t trying to tell her to stop believing in a better conclusion for her partner’s part of this story. He was worried about all of them. “It will be disappointing, but I don’t dread the idea of having a little boy around. It’s not like we weren’t planning to have kids of our own some day. It will just be really hard to see the affect it has on him.”

“Yeah. I don’t know if Javier has any idea what his choice really meant to Kevin. The little guy was absolutely crushed when you two left yesterday morning.”

“I’m glad I got to miss that,” said Beckett. Even hearing about it briefly, secondhand, was enough to make her chest tight. “Okay, we need to find a happier topic or the boys are going to wonder what we were talking about.” She took a minute to lock her composure back in place. She checked on more time that the hidden drawer was locked and handed the key to Castle. He scanned the room, looking for an ideal hiding place. He finally settled on slipping it beneath a heavy figurine she’d acquired while abroad. 

Together, the lovers returned to the open kitchen and living room area. Kevin had settled on her much loved couch with a coffee table book about art in Italy while Javier raided her refrigerator. She hurried over to the stainless steel appliance. “What do you need, Javi?”

“A drink,” he replied. “And speaking of take-out - what’s this?” He pointed to a white carton of Chinese that had still looked edible the last time Beckett had cleaned out her fridge. 

“Hush, you,” she said. “You’re supposed to do as I say, not as I do.” She located a bottle of water and handed it to her partner. Her drink selection, or at least the stuff that wasn’t on the verge of spoiling, was rather adult in nature. “Now, get out of my kitchen.”

“What were you and Castle doing?”

“Hiding the adoption papers that Captain Gates made,” she replied honestly. “Are you ready to head uptown?”

“You dragged me and Kevin down here for that?” Javier unscrewed the lid of his drink and frowned. 

“Yes,” she replied unapologetically. “Do you need anything else before we go?”

“Besides being horribly inconvenienced, I’m fine.”

“Very funny, brat.” She stuck her tongue out at him. Before he moved out of her range, she grabbed his hand. “Kevin, babe, let’s go.”

The blond returned the oversized book to the low coffee table and dutifully joined his partners. Castle resumed his guardianship of the Irishman and then they were once again heading towards a subway stop. 

The ride to Columbia was longer than the one between the loft and Beckett’s apartment. The train was also more crowded, so she was made to squeeze onto a narrow bench with Kevin on her lap and Javier next to her while Castle stood protectively at the end of their row. She scanned the mass of people as well as she could with her limited view range. She thought she recognized one of the other riders, but upon closer inspection she realized that he was no more than a stranger. She shook her head minutely and leaned forward to see what had captured Kevin’s attention, in hopes that it would take her mind off of the fear of being followed. He had been diligently reading the temporary tribute to the history of the New York subway system that was plastered to the side of the car in the place of the usual poster-sized advertisement. 

“Anything interesting, baby boy?”

“Nothing I haven’t already read,” he answered. “They put these signs up every year around this time.”

“And of course, you read them every time.” She pressed a smiling kiss to his cheek, ignoring the coconut smell of his sunscreen. While she and Javier were prone to teasing Kevin about his insatiable appetite for random trivia, she had to admit that it often came in useful during their murder investigations. She’d miss that if he never returned to the 12th. 

“It’s not like there is a shortage of murders in the subway,” he said. “One of these days, knowing the background of these tunnels may be the turning point in a case.”

“Maybe,” she agreed. Kevin was also a sponge when it came to facts, so if he’d read the poster previously, it wasn’t pertinent that he finish it this time. She slouched back against the hard plastic seat and pulled him with her, desiring the comfort of holding him close to her heart. Unbidden, her conversation with Castle in her office played out in her memory and she struggled to put it away. 

There was another cramped pair of seats in front of hers and then the rotated handicapped seats on either side of the sliding doors. Standing in the crowded space between the doors was an old lady with soft silver hair and a pleasantly wrinkled face. She smiled when she noticed that Beckett had caught her eye on her next perusal of the train. Beckett blushed slightly at the stranger’s regard, but what she felt was pride. No one else had children as beautiful and precocious as hers. She tuned out Kevin’s monologue on the specifics of the tunnel construction and just enjoyed the brief reflection of the boy’s personality before the curse. 

“Kevin,” interrupted Javier eventually. He looked up at the blond, who gained a few inches on the older boy with the help of his Beckett-booster seat. “No one is listening to you.”

“Beckett is,” argued the Irishman. 

“Of course I am,” she lied. She gave Javier a look. 

“Well, can’t you talk about something less mind-numbing than subways?”

“How would you know they’re mind-numbing if you’re not listening?” challenged the blond. 

“Because I know you,” replied Javier. “And you like the world’s most boring crap. Why don’t you drone on about baseball, instead?”

“I do not like boring crap.” Kevin tried to twist around to face his partner head on. Beckett had to adjust her hold on him to avoid spilling the squirming youth into Javier’s lap, instead. “A lot was learned during the time of the subway construction, which took place over many decades. Don’t you remember the tunnels at the Old Haunt? How could old Johnny Walker have hidden his scotch down there without the network of passages beneath the city? I know you enjoyed drinking that.”

“How about you two not talk so loudly about drinking scotch when you look like little kids,” muttered Castle. He shifted uncomfortably and checked that no one had been paying the kids any attention. 

“Just because I enjoyed the scotch doesn’t mean I care where it came from,” countered Javier, completely ignoring the writer. 

“You weren’t at all affected by the knowledge that you were drinking aged scotch from the secret and illicit stash of the New York City mayor during the time of prohibition?” Kevin stared down the older boy, daring him to deny Kevin’s statement. 

Well, Javier wasn’t one to back down from a dare, especially one from Kevin. “Nope.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“That’s your problem.”

“Beckett, he’s being mean to me,” complained Kevin. He tucked up against her, taking whatever allies he could find. 

“He’s trying to give you a hard time. Just ignore him,” she replied disinterestedly. “You know he loves you.” She did a very good job not reacting to Javier’s annoyed pinch through the material of her light blue blouse.

“Not very much, it seems,” pouted Kevin. He settled for watching the flashing lights outside the large window next to their seat until they arrived at the station for Columbia University.

While his weight wasn’t unbearable, he wasn’t exactly light and Beckett was relieved when Kevin slid off her lap so they could exit the train. Since Castle already had Javier, she kept contact with her younger partner as they crossed the beautiful campus towards Alexis’ dorm room. Castle called his daughter to alert her of their imminent arrival. They decided to meet her at her room since she needed a few more minutes to finish a homework assignment before she was ready to depart. 

When she opened the door to her shared room, Alexis was dressed in a baseball tee sporting the logo of the Yankees and had her long red hair tucked up under a matching ball cap. Beckett thought the outfit was cute on the younger female. 

With two adults, two college students, and two kids, it was a tight fit in the microscopic space. Castle had met Alexis’ roommate before, but the mousy girl with dark brown hair and light gray eyes was new to the detectives. “Dad, you’ve met Kelly,” said Alexis. “Kelly, this is Kate, my dad’s girlfriend. My dad adopted Kevin and Javier, my little brothers.”

“Nice to meet you,” said the freshman. “Lex, I’m going to run down to the vending machine. Anyone want anything?”

“No, thank you,” replied Castle, cutting off whatever Javier was about to ask for. He smiled charmingly at the girl. 

“I’m good,” said Alexis. Kelly nodded and escaped the cramped quarters. Alexis clapped her hands together and grinned warmly. “This is my dorm room,” she said. 

“It didn’t seem like you had this much stuff when you borrowed my truck,” commented Javier. He eyed the precarious stacks of furniture, text books, and miscellaneous possessions. 

“It accumulates,” said Castle dryly. 

“It’s a lot cleaner than my dorm room when I was in college,” said Kevin. He climbed onto the bed and bounced briefly on the mattress. “The bed is about as comfortable, though.”

“Knowing these places, it’s probably the same mattress that was used back then,” said Javier. 

“Don’t remind me,” said Castle unhappily. “But if it doesn’t bother Alexis, it shouldn’t bother me.” 

“Don’t worry, Daddy, I’m sure they bleached it at least once between then and now,” said Kevin. He didn’t see the way Castle froze momentarily since he was now leaning over to read the cover on one of Alexis’ discarded text books. Beckett, however, saw it. She bit her lip to keep from smirking. Castle had told her about Kevin’s reaction to being referred to as ‘son’ by the writer. The older man never expected to hear the corresponding familial name from the Irishman. They both knew that Kevin had used the term in reference to Castle’s relation to Alexis, but apparently it had still given the author pause. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t dress them up in full Yankee gear,” said Alexis, changing the subject. “Usually you’re all for dressing up.”

“It was kind of a last minute decision,” said Castle. “I was woefully unprepared.”

“Well, what better place to find Yankee jerseys than at the stadium itself?” asked Beckett. She patted Castle on the chest. 

“No more clothes,” complained Javier. 

“Oh, be quiet,” chided Beckett. She ruffled Javier’s hair. “Yesterday wasn’t that bad.”

“Are we thinking about the same outing?” asked Javier sarcastically.

“I thought it was that bad,” stated Kevin, without looking up from the text book. 

“You don’t count. You have a pre-existing condition,” argued Castle. Kevin rolled his eyes. 

“Rick, we should probably get going,” said Beckett after checking on her watch. “Alexis, did you need help with anything before we go?”

“No, I finished my last problem right before you guys knocked. Let me just grab my wallet.” Beckett helped the boys straighten the bedding while the redhead searched for her purse. Finally successful, Alexis gestured towards the door. 

“Do you think we should tell Kelly it’s safe to return now?” asked Castle. 

“She’ll come back eventually,” said Alexis. 

This time, as they trekked down the wooden stairs, their family was complete. Beckett grinned indulgently at Javier, who had grown so much in the last ten minutes that he was now too old to hold Castle’s hand. His sideways glances at Alexis were just as amusing as they had been when he was six. Kevin, fortunately, was much less concerned about whether Alexis viewed them as adults or children. 

“Listen, Javi,” said Castle with fading patience. “You let me hold onto you or I’ll buy you one of those child leashes and make you wear that.”

“That would have worked on Kevin, when he was four,” argued Javier. 

“Will you hold my hand?” asked Alexis. “That way we can watch out for each other.”

The idea looked equally unappealing to Javier, but he wasn’t about to get into it with Little Castle. Grudgingly, he agreed with the solemn promise that he wouldn’t let any mad witches steal her away. Alexis nodded seriously and Beckett was jealous at how convincing her poker face was. 

“What’s up with that?” asked Castle under his breath as he fell into step beside Beckett, a few paces behind Alexis and Javier. 

“She’s a pretty girl and you’re just a ruggedly handsome author who narrates odes to underwear in the middle of department stores,” replied Beckett with a laugh. “Besides, you know that the minute he feels even remotely threatened, he’ll be right back here with you.” Castle smiled at that thought. Beckett didn’t mind that her little boys tended to seek out Castle for safety and protection. Sometimes, she felt the same pull towards the charismatic man. She really was blessed to have him in her life, despite his quirks. 

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 250,000 words... yikes.
> 
> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.   
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art!


	56. Third Saturday Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the Yankees play the Twins...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Fifty-Six

Saul Davis read the message on his phone, feeling a mixture of irritation and unease. His tail had just reported seeing Detective Beckett enter Yankee stadium with her boyfriend, the two retrogressed police officers, and an unknown young lady.

His master had tasked him with the unfortunate assignment of reclaiming the rescued children. The only bright side to this whole mess was that he no longer had to deal with that creepy Bellefonte fellow and his corpse-like mother. His master fully intended to let the disgraced witch rot in the federal jail. It was a clear sign to Davis that he should also think twice about messing up. The powerful witch above him did not believe in second chances. 

With a weary sigh, Davis called his boss to report the status of his mission. Dresden wasn’t exactly in a hurry, knowing that extracting the children from the clutches of their self-proclaimed guardians without involving the FBI or the NYPD again was a delicate task. Davis was just glad that Dresden had decided to take care of the rest of the interfering parties himself. The manipulative Bianca Castova might have been able to trick Davis once and destroy the power Dresden had given Bellefonte, but she wouldn’t stand a chance against the master himself. Eliminating the younger Bellefonte brother would be easier than breathing for the necromancer. 

“Continue your observations,” said his master. The man’s low, gravelly voice caused shudders to run down Davis’ spine, even over the phone. “You may not be able to make your move until after I complete my tasks. Until then, do not let them find a new hiding place without your knowledge.”

“Yes, sir. A quick question, if I may?” Davis interpreted the heavy silence as permission to continue. “If you are only interested in keeping one of the spellbound officers, why do I have to bring them both in? What are you going to do with the second?”

“Why, return his broken and desecrated body to Detective Beckett, of course.” Davis felt marginally sick at the sound of pleasure in the man’s tone. “She will learn that I do not appreciate interference with my plans.”

“Right, then.”

“Keep me updated.” The called ended abruptly. Davis pocketed the phone before rubbing his hand over his face. He rued the misguided decision that had led to his association with Dresden.

xXx

After pausing to take the obligatory pictures on the huge Yankees symbol in front of Gate 4 and a few wide shots with the stadium in the background, the quintet entered the stadium behind home plate and worked their way around to a fan apparel store so that Castle could dress his boys in appropriate Yankees attire. He steamrolled the detectives’ protests that it wasn’t necessary to spend the money on miniature jerseys they’d only wear once by promising that it could all be donated later.

To Javier’s dismay, Kevin grabbed his arm as they exited the shop and tried to drag him into the small museum that featured the history of the team, the stadium, and baseball in general. Thinking that they should take advantage of being there, Castle made the executive decision that they would all tour the exhibit space. 

Castle kept his thoughts to himself about Javier’s unconcealed interest in the displays once he was finally inside, though he made an effort to appear aloof. The writer did have to step in when he realized that Kevin intended to read every single placard, which would take longer than the time they had left. “Just hit the most interesting looking ones, kiddo,” he said, pulling the blond away from a dreary poster that was mostly dates with little to no description of the event that took place. 

Kate threaded her fingers through Castle’s and leaned against his side. Her eyes were bright as she watched Kevin point out something interesting he’d found to Alexis, who was much more tolerant of his “nerdiness” than Javier. Not that Javier didn’t casually drift that way after a few seconds to see for himself what the big deal was. The pair of them were endearing in their matching Yankees jerseys, Kevin sporting the name of CC Sabathia and Javier promoting Robinson Cano. Javier’s ball cap, featuring the camouflage print honoring Military Appreciation Day, was skewed to the side in the style popular with hipsters while Kevin wore his traditional hat backwards.

Castle documented the interactions of the three “kids” on his smart phone, alternating between video and photographs depending on how entertaining he though each upcoming exchange was going to be. Alexis made a few funny faces at the camera when she caught on to her dad’s activities, whereas the faces Javier made were equally amusing though he was trying to look annoyed. Kevin obliviously tugged on Alexis’ hand to show her the next display. 

“Are you guys ready to find our seats?” asked Castle when they’d explored most of the museum. In the small, relatively unpopulated exhibit hall, he and Kate had been comfortable letting the boys run free as long as they stayed within sight. The writer could already tell that the rest of the stadium was filling up as more spectators arrived to watch the pre-game batting practice. To his relief, Kate snagged Javier when he moved too close to her and Castle had an easy time locking his fingers around Kevin’s smaller ones when the blond starting tugging on his arm, excited to share the random trivia he’d picked up in the last half hour. Castle half listened to him as he guided his group back towards the private entrance to the Legend’s Suite Club that would lead to their seats. 

Even Kate and Alexis seemed to feed on the boys’ excitement as they were escorted through the posh dining area and back out into the sun. Javier headed directly for the concrete half-hall that separated their seats from the first base line and Castle was worried for a second that the Hispanic detective would try to scale the wall. Instead, Javier turned back to grin widely at the writer. “Castle, I knew these were going to be good seats, but look, we’re _right_ behind first base!” 

“That’s the Yankee’s dugout,” stated Kevin. He used the first row of seats to leverage himself up on the wall and lean out in an attempt to catch a glimpse of some of the players. Castle grabbed him under the arms from behind to set him back on his feet. 

“Okay, first rule in the DNGCHAWBG book: keep your feet on the ground at all times and do not break your neck by falling over the edge of the stands,” said Castle. He ignored Kate’s chuckling behind him. 

“The what?” asked Javier. Kevin squinted up at him as well, an equally confused look on his face. 

Castle plucked the cap off of the blond’s head. “The ‘Do Not Give Castle a Heart Attack While at Baseball Game’ book,” he elaborated. He tugged the cap down over Kevin’s head with the bill forward this time, blocking the sun from the boy’s eyes. 

“It’s only like four feet to the grass,” said Javier. He peered over the wall to double check his claim. 

“I don’t care.”

“What’s rule number two?” asked Alexis. 

“I’ll tell you when the time comes,” replied Castle. Alexis laughed and settled into her seat next to Kate. Since the boys didn’t look like they would be claiming any of the cushioned seats in the near future, Castle settled in on his girlfriend’s other side. 

“This is nice,” said Kate. “It reminds me of coming to games with my dad when I was little, though we tended to get seats a little higher up.”

“I’d come as a kid, too, usually when one of my mother’s theatre buddies managed to score some tickets. Of course, Martha was never interested in joining us.”

“Yes, I remember very clearly your mother’s dislike of baseball,” said Kate. She shuddered. “I’m just glad that she and my dad aren’t completely on non-speaking terms.”

“Yeah, that dinner was definitely awkward. Thank goodness for murders, right?” Kate laughed and poked him in the chest. 

“Bad Castle. You shouldn’t wish for murders as an excuse to avoid your familial responsibilities.”

“I am great at familial responsibilities. I used to take Alexis to games fairly regularly. Remember that, ‘Lex?”

“I do,” responded his daughter. “Our seats weren’t this good, either.”

“Well, if I’d known all I had to do was write the Yankees into a story and I’d be set for life, I would have made Derek Storm’s first case feature them heavily,” said Castle. He stretched his arms out, draping them over the backs of the seats to either side of his. 

A young man wearing the official uniform of the Legends Suite Club stopped at the end of their row. He dipped his head slightly in greeting. “Hello, my name is David and I’ll be your waiter this afternoon. Would you like anything to drink or eat?”

“You’re our waiter?” Javier eyed the stranger skeptically. 

“Yes, that’s one of the perks of these seats. We get complimentary food and drinks right at our seats,” said Castle. “Be nice.”

“Maybe we’ll just start with some waters,” said Kate to the waiter. 

“And popcorn,” chimed in Alexis. After confirming that they didn’t want anything else, David departed. Kevin knelt in the seat next to Castle, facing away from the field and towards the older man. Castle had his phone ready again, fully expecting the youngest of their group to do something amusing after the roll he’d been on in the museum. 

“They really have waiters at Yankee Stadium?” asked the shrunken detective. 

“I guess so,” replied Castle. “And the food comes with our tickets, so I’m expecting you to eat until you’re ready to burst, squirt.”

Kevin frowned at the nickname, but didn’t comment. Instead, he opted to impart more of his recently gained knowledge. “Did you know that Babe Ruth was the first person to hit a home run in Yankee Stadium, against his old team the Boston Red Sox, during the 1923 inaugural game?”

“It doesn’t surprise me,” answered Castle diplomatically. “Who won that game?”

“The Yankees, 4 to 1.” 

“Good boy.” Castle knew a few things about the team too, mostly from his past research, though apparently Kevin had unearthed some new trivia in the exhibit hall. He quizzed the child until his phone started flashing that the video file was too large. “You don’t say,” said Castle after Kevin had regurgitated yet another tidbit that was new to the author. “Now, why don’t you go help Javi flag down a player for some autographs?” The older boy was still plastered to the wall, raptly watching the players practicing hitting. A few teammates were casually tossing a baseball back and forth to kill time before the field was cleared for the Military Appreciation events. 

“He really likes you,” commented Alexis after Kevin had reluctantly moved back to Javier’s side. 

“I really like him,” responded Castle. “Now, don’t be jealous that I will probably be the second-most knowledgeable person about the Yankees by the end of this afternoon.”

“Don’t worry, I got to hear all about the subway system earlier,” said Kate. She smiled fondly at her younger partner’s back. “I think he’s finally feeling better.” Castle snapped a few stills of the boys debating the players’ statistics as he nodded in agreement. 

“So, what happened to make Javier stay small?” asked Alexis. “I thought he was supposed to be turned back into an adult yesterday.”

Castle delayed responding when David returned with five water bottles and two tubs of popcorn. After the waiter was out of earshot from their strange conversation, he said, “He didn’t want Kevin to go through this alone, so he’s holding out a little longer in case the witches change their mind about leaving Kevin cursed.”

“Oh, that was sweet of him.”

“He is a sweetie,” said Kate.

“When he’s not doing his best impression of a terrorist,” stated Castle exasperatedly. 

“I’m not sweet or a terrorist,” announced Javier. He grabbed a fistful of popcorn from Kate’s bucket. He tried to make a covert grab for the author’s phone at the same time but Castle managed to keep possession of the device. Kevin once more climbed onto the seat next to Castle to partake in the writer’s bounty. Castle was glad to see the blond eating, even if it was highly unhealthy ballpark popcorn. 

“Then what are you?” Kate asked her older partner. 

“There are no adjectives to describe me.”

“There are, you just wouldn’t know them thanks to your limited vocabulary,” said Kevin candidly. He filled his mouth with popcorn nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t just taken a cheap shot at his partner. 

“We can’t all be bookworms,” retorted the older boy. “Can I have my water?”

Kate unscrewed the top of one of the icy cold bottles and handed it to her partner. “It looks like the pre-game ceremony is about to start,” she said. The players were making their way towards the dugout again and a procession of official-looking people were headed towards the pitcher’s mound. 

The military tribute started with honoring soldiers and the families of fallen, followed by a performance of the Armed Forces Medley. Plenty of other kids were standing during the ceremony, so to the casual observer, Javier just looked like a young boy leaning up against the barrier wall to get a better view. Their little group knew better, and it was clear in the serious expression on the Hispanic boy’s face that he was recalling his own time as an enlisted member while the flag was raised and the Star Spangled Banner played. Castle took plenty of pictures of the tribute, though most of them featured his kids. 

The game started with a ceremonial pitch by a distinguished colonel who had served her country in the Air Force Special Operations. After that, the Yankees managed to get three outs on the first three batters after a Twins’ pop-fly was followed by two strike-outs. The crowd erupted in cheers when the second Yankee batter made it to second base. The successful hit was followed by another, resulting in the Yankees scoring the first run of the game. 

Unfortunately, the Twins came back in the next inning with a home run. After that, little scoring took place. By the end of the fifth inning, Castle suggested they get a little relief from the pounding sun by heading in to the dining room for an early dinner. They were seated near a large television so they could still keep track of the game. 

Following the high-class meal, which apparently didn’t taste as good to his younger boy as popcorn because he didn’t eat much of it, they returned to their seats just in time for the beginning of the seventh inning and the next Twins’ score. The game went downhill from there, with the Twins scoring again in the eighth and twice in the ninth. The mood in the rest of the stadium was somewhat somber, given the loss, but Castle had enjoyed himself. 

They took one last trip to the restrooms while they were still in the exclusive part of the stadium. As leader of the “guy party”, Castle waited patiently for his charges to finish washing their hands, leery of leaving them unattended even for that long. When they exited the posh space, Kate was on her phone and tugging nervously at a loose strand of hair while Alexis looked on worriedly. 

“Who is it?” Castle asked his daughter. 

“I don’t know,” replied Alexis in a rather loud whisper. “It looks important, though.”

Javier edged in close to Kate, trying to discern to whom she was speaking using a combination of her comments and attempting to get a glimpse of the phone’s screen. For his troubles, Kate wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him in close, though her full focus never wavered from the call. 

Castle instinctively checked that Kevin was still within sight. The nine-year-old waited at Castle’s side, watching his partners closely. The writer reached for his little hand, though Castle’s worried curiosity didn’t fade with the contact. 

Kate finally hung up and immediately sought out her boyfriend. “There was an explosion in the south side of the city,” she explained hurriedly, keeping her voice low. As she spoke, her fingers ghosted over the screen of her phone. 

“That’s well outside of the Twelfth’s usual jurisdiction,” commented Castle. 

“The building that was affected housed Randy’s fertility clinic,” Kate expounded. Castle felt his heart sink. He tightened his hold on Kevin. 

“Was he there?”

“I don’t know. It just happened a few minutes ago. Demming picked up the chatter on the scanner and recognized the address for Randy’s workplace. There’s still no word on the extent of the damage or if there were any casualties.”

“Shit,” said Castle. “Does… Can you… I mean, how do we find out more information?”

“I want to go down there myself,” said Kate. She hit the dial button on her phone and watched the flashing call icon diligently. After a number of rings, the doctor’s voicemail picked up. Kate swore. 

“If someone was targeting him, it was probably a witch,” said Castle. “You should stay away until they secure the area.” As far as they knew, Rayford Bellefonte was still in federal custody. Anyone else who would try to harm the younger brother was unknown to them and therefore exponentially more dangerous in his mind. 

“We can’t just do nothing,” said Javier earnestly. “Bellefonte Two is our only shot at breaking this curse!”

“Keep your voice down,” scolded Castle. “Come here.” The last thing they needed was Kate and Javier feeding off of each other’s nervous energy. He didn’t exactly feel calm himself, but he imagined he could do a better job faking it than his girlfriend currently was. When Javier moved to his side, the writer squeezed the boy’s shoulder reassuringly. 

“If the witches are making moves on each other, is it safe to go home? They know where we live,” said Alexis. 

“We don’t know for sure if the explosion was meant for Randy, or if it was even anything more than an accident,” said Castle. This role-reversal was kind of daunting. Usually he was the one getting excited about explosions or murders and it was Kate who kept cool. 

“That’s why I need to go down there, to find out more,” said Kate. “Can you handle getting everyone somewhere safe in the meantime, Rick?”

“Yes--” Castle’s mind caught up with his mouth and he cut himself off. “No. What if this is a diversion to get us to split up? You’re the one who’s armed and dangerous, Kate. You’re our best bet at resisting an attack on this end.”

“Well, I would be armed if we weren’t in a baseball stadium,” complained the detective. That’s right, the scanners they’d all walked through when they first arrived would have definitely picked up on Kate’s sidearm. 

“Then let’s go back to the loft,” decided Castle. “Call Bianca and see if she knows anything.”

“Okay.” Kate took a deep breath and dialed again. To her dismay, the call also went to voicemail. “Now what?”

“You could come back to Columbia with me,” suggested Alexis. The idea of the five of them, plus one roommate, squeezing into that tiny room for who knows how long, did not sound appealing to the writer. Even less so was the chance that someone might follow them to his daughter’s residence hall. 

“We’re really probably overreacting,” the author reiterated. “We’ll go home, everything will be fine, and both Bianca and Randy will call us back once they notice the missed calls.”

“You’re right.” Kate ran her hands over her hair and took another long breath. She shook out her arms as she brought them back down. “Come on.”

She led the way towards the exit, leaving Castle in charge of both boys and Alexis carrying the backpack. Castle felt pulled in two directions, as Javier tried to keep up with their reckless, fearless leader and Kevin was in no hurry to go anywhere fast. Had the blond still been four, the easy solution would just be to pick him up and deal with his issues in a less public and unsecure place. Now, Castle preferred that option to be Plan Z. 

“Alexis, grab her,” he urged, tilting his head in the direction where Kate was rapidly losing them. The redhead nodded and took off after the detective while Castle herded his charges towards an empty bench against the wall. He pushed both boys onto it and knelt in front of the younger detective. “What’s the matter?” he asked. He regretted the impatient tone carried on his voice, but in his defense, he really didn’t want to be doing this right now. 

“What if Javi can’t be big again now?” asked Kevin. The sound of tears in his question was unmistakable and Castle felt both sympathetic and annoyed. He could tell that Kevin didn’t want to cause a scene in Yankee Stadium, but was losing the battle with his emotions. “He only stayed small because of me and now the witch can’t turn him back.” Javier wrapped his arms around Kevin’s middle from behind, squeezing the blond tightly in silent support. His expression also betrayed his fear at what the explosion in Randy’s building might mean for the size of his future. 

“We don’t know if anything happened to Randy yet,” repeated Castle. “It’s going to be all right, I promise.”

“You can’t promise things like that,” argued Kevin and this time real tears accompanied his complaint. “You don’t know.”

“I do know,” corrected the writer. “Because whether we find out that Randy is okay and everything goes back to the original plan, or we find out that he’s not and I bring both of you up as my sons, it will be all right.” He put all the conviction he could muster into his words. Kevin lost his hold on a couple quiet sobs. Castle’s irritation at the Irishman melted away as he watched the younger male struggle to stop crying on his own. 

“Excuse me, sir, is everything okay?” Castle started mildly at the gentle tap on his shoulder. He craned his neck back to look up at the well-dressed employee from the VIP Legend’s Suite.

“Uh, yes. We just got some alarming news about a favorite uncle,” deflected the writer. Thankfully, it seemed to satisfy the helpful employee. 

“I’m sorry to hear that. Please let me know if I can do anything to assist you.”

“Thanks,” said Castle. He dismissed the man by turning back to his kids. Kevin was taking slow, deep breaths, though it looked like his regained hold on his fear was tenuous at best. Javier still hugged his partner and Kevin seemed to draw most of his strength from that contact. Castle added his own by taking a hand from each of his little boys and squeezing firmly. “Can you hold on until we get back to the loft? Just keep it together a little longer and then you can be sad or angry or frightened as much as you want. Can you do that for me?” Kevin nodded slowly, barely moving his head as if even that motion would cause his wall to crack again. “Good boy.” Castle smiled warmly, holding the boy’s watery gaze for a long moment. “I’m not going to carry you, so you need to keep up with me.”

“Okay,” responded Kevin in a barely audible voice. 

Kate and Alexis arrived at the bench then. His daughter looked concerned while Kate echoed Castle’s earlier feelings of exasperation at the delay. She avoided having to give voice to her impatience as Castle rose to his full height and the kids slid off of their temporary seat. Javier didn’t want to lose contact with the younger boy, so Castle settled for walking directly behind his impromptu family while Kate took one of Kevin’s hands and Javier took the other. Alexis kept pace beside her father. Castle felt a small sense of loss at going from two charges to zero, so he offered his elbow to his daughter. Alexis accepted the gesture and kept close to her father. He wasn’t sure who was comforting whom, to be honest. 

Kate was too wired to sit on the subway, so the three youngest in their group squeezed onto the bench seat while the older two stood in the aisle. Alexis had the window, with Kevin in the middle and Javier at the other end. Castle absently flattened Javier’s dark, short hair while he watched Kate scowl at her phone as both the poor reception and discouraging voicemail invitations thwarted her attempts to contact the witches. 

Alexis, bless her heart, tried to distract Kevin from his worries by making small talk about one of their shared interests. The nine-year-old slowly warmed to the conversation and was actually responding in multiple word sentences by the time they reached their transfer station. This underground concrete space was far emptier than the one adjacent to the stadium. On their new train, it was actually possible for all of them to have seats. Javier and Kate sat behind Alexis and Kevin. Castle had one of the handicap seats perpendicular to his daughter’s, which suited him fine because he could easily see all of his loved ones. 

To his relief, no bad people were staked out in front of the loft when the group approached the doorman. The man greeted them cheerfully and didn’t bat an eye when the response from the residents was less than enthusiastic. Upstairs, Kate set to pacing in the entry, living up to her end of the bargain to give the witches fifteen more minutes before she stormed downtown in a fury of vengeful detective. Castle made hot chocolate with real milk, surreptitiously dissolving five milligrams each of melatonin in the mugs assigned to the boys. He wanted them to sleep through the upcoming uncertainty if possible. “Drugging” the younger detectives, even though he was using a natural supplement that probably wouldn’t even work, would most likely end up on his list of transgressions against Javier, but the list was so long anyway, Castle doubted the Hispanic detective could be much more annoyed with him.

It didn’t have much of an effect on Javier, but Kevin went down for a nap after some strategic cuddling and soothing back rubbing on Castle’s part. Alexis dragged Honeymilk out of the boys’ room and centered the oversized toy in the middle of the couch. Castle situated his drowsy little boy to one side of the animal, once again using its soft leg as a makeshift pillow. Javier climbed up on the other side of it and leaned against its shoulder so he could half watch his partner sleep and half play with his phone. The melatonin and milk combination might not have had the desired effect on him, but Javier was definitely mellow right now. 

Castle tried once more to convince his girlfriend to abandon the idea of walking into danger by the front door, arguing with her in whispers that could have easily been mistaken for typical speaking volume. Mercifully, only Alexis was really paying attention to them. Kate had her hand on the door knob, argument won, when her phone starting ringing. Castle’s eyes fell shut in relief when he caught a glimpse of the caller ID. 

“Randy, where have you been?” Kate demanded in greeting. Castle couldn’t hear the doctor’s response, but he was contented with knowing the older man hadn’t expired in the explosion that had leveled his office. He wandered back into the living room and sat down tiredly next to his daughter. From what he could hear of Kate’s side of the conversation, not only was the doctor presumably fine, but apparently had barely learned of his workplace’s demise minutes before returning Kate’s numerous calls. 

Alexis retired to her room, leaving her father and adoptive brothers alone in the calmer ambiance of the living room. Castle watched the flames dance in his fireplace and wondered what in the world would happen next. 

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.   
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art!


	57. Third Saturday Late Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Beckett interrogates Rayford...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Fifty-Seven

Bianca kept her opinions to herself as she stood by Randall’s side and observed his interactions with the other Council members. The opinions were, however, of the favorable kind. The Council had initially been cynical of including the youngest Bellefonte in their fold, given the actions of his brother and late mother, not to mention his own questionable entrance into the world. It was easy though, for even the most skeptical witch, to see that the doctor carried none of his family’s malice, even if he did, in return, seem a little dubious about being in their midst. 

It wasn’t really her wont to be excessively vocal in the gathering of elite witches, instead relying on her reputation and bearing to get her point across. That she condoned the doctor’s presence was unmistakable and that seemed to allay most of her peers’ concerns. 

“I’m still not sure why you dragged me here,” said Randy in a low voice when he’d successfully survived another prying conversation with a nosy Council member. 

“To show them that you are not equally drawn to the dark magic as your kin,” replied Bianca. 

“I really don’t care what they think of me. When this mess with the detectives is settled, I intend to go back to my boring, non-magical life.”

“That’s disappointing,” said Bianca. She inspected her perfect manicure, effectively disregarding the younger witch’s sentiment. Randy let out a short, dry laugh at her reaction and shook his head slowly. 

“Your interest in me is flattering, though I still don’t know what I ever did to earn it.” She could tell from his tone that he was trying to pick his words carefully, fearful of offending her but brave enough to voice his confusion. Really, she wasn’t as scary as people made her out to be. She was just a harmless little old lady, dedicated to a life of healing and sacrifice. Still, the respect was nice. She couldn’t decide whose approach she preferred: Randall’s low-key diffidence or Katherine’s confrontational style. They both had their perks, she decided. At least Katherine was refreshingly unafraid of her.

“You are very gifted, in both ability and temperament,” she said at last. The basics that Nora Bellefonte had taught her son had returned easily to the doctor and his propensity for understanding magic and its uses was exemplary. From what little Bianca had coached him on, he had extrapolated powerful knowledge, to the point that he had managed to write a spell to undo what had been his mother’s opus in less than two weeks. His dedication to creating the counter-spell was commendable. He genuinely cared for the well-being of the unfortunate duo that had wound up in the crosshairs of his ex-wife’s and mother’s struggle with… well, that was a story for a different time. Should he be willing to accept the responsibilities, he would make an excellent white witch. 

“Now you’re making me nervous,” commented the doctor candidly. “Why do I feel like you have something unpleasant planned for me?”

“Oh, be serious,” scolded the white witch mildly. She gave him a disapproving look. His wry sense of humor was amusing when it wasn’t directed at her. Randall appeared unfazed by her reprimand. 

“What are you plotting, Bianca?”

“I don’t _plot_. Really.” She put a little more heat in her glare this time and the doctor at least had the decency to look sorry for his mean choice of words. Mollified, Bianca smiled to show that she wasn’t truly offended. “I _plan_ , dear. And what I have been planning is my retirement.”

“What retirement?” He looked alarmed at her statement. “I mean, everyone seems to think you’re plot… erm, _planning_ to make a grab for power within the Council now that everything is upended with Kennedy’s death.”

Yes, Bianca was well aware of that, though she hadn’t realized Randall was astute enough to pick up on the undercurrents of distrust and hesitation within the Council. She shouldn’t be surprised though - that’s one of the things she liked about him, after all. It was pointless to run herself hoarse insisting that she had been looking to step out of the political sphere long before the detectives, the Bellefontes, and the necromancer, even if it was the truth. Still, she believed in the Council enough to stay until things were calm again and a suitable replacement for both herself and Kennedy had been found. 

“I’m old, Randall,” Bianca said calmly. “I’ve fulfilled my duty to the craft and the Council many times over and while I’ve enjoyed the benefits of my station, all things must come to an end. A white witch understands the balances and treasures them. I want to age again, and eventually join my ancestors in the next life.”

“You can’t just leave us,” he argued. “I mean, what am I supposed to do about this retrogression mess without you?”

“You don’t need me, Randall,” said Bianca. Her heart swelled with affection. “You learn more quickly than I can teach you and your character is strong. That’s beside the point though. I’m not packing my bags and heading west tomorrow. I’m not yet done with Katherine and I’m quite fond of her precious children, so I have no intention of going anywhere until I’ve had my fill of them.”

“What about the Council?”

“It existed long before me and it will exist long after me,” she said. “I want my legacy to be a strong partnership between the Council and the authorities within the everyday world. Katherine trusts you, more than she trusts me, and together you could help our worlds coexist peacefully.”

“That sounds like an awfully large burden and a kink in my plan to leave magic behind once the detectives are freed from their spell.” Randy looked very much opposed to the idea of her retiring, probably still assuming they’d be digging her grave the day after she made her decision official. Physically, she still had many years before her, thanks to the white magic that had frozen her aging when she assumed her mantle. “I don’t want to be a member of your beloved Council.”

“Have you ever really considered it?” asked Bianca. “You’d be very good at it. These witches could use the influence of a level-headed, fair colleague.” 

“And what about your position? Will there just cease to be a white witch in New York?”

“No, I cannot retire until I have found and trained a suitable replacement, to whom I can pass along my abilities.”

She could tell the moment when it all clicked in the younger witch’s head. All of the time she’d spent re-teaching him magic, with a heavy focus on natural remedies and healing spells, combined with her skillful orchestration of events that built up his credentials in the magical community, all led up to her final request of him. 

“No, Bianca, I can’t,” he said. He shook his head emphatically. “I can’t be your successor. I mean, look at my history… I was born of black magic and brought up in the thick of it. I could never become a white witch, even if I wanted to.”

“The darkness in your past is your family’s history, not yours,” Bianca said firmly. “Do you think my early life was free of any kind of strife or moral ambiguity? And you were not born of black magic. Your father was a very powerful man who let a common seductress tempt him at the end of his life. What ability you have comes from him, not your travesty of a mother. And while it was clearly Nora’s intention to raise you in the knowledge of black magic, you bear no taint of it.”

“There’s still the matter of not wanting to become one,” argued Randall.

“Do you truly despise the life of a white witch, or are you simply afraid you won’t be any good at it?” Bianca held his gaze challengingly, forcing him to actually think about the question instead of defaulting to his standard rejection of any kind of magic. In the end he had to look away, unable to answer her because he didn’t have one to give. “Think about it, Randall, and keep in mind whatever trust you have in me to be good at my job.”

“You really enjoying playing chess with people’s lives, don’t you,” he said weakly. 

“Only when I win,” replied Bianca. She patted his arm.

“Of course.” Randall sighed and pulled out his cell phone, which had been silenced during the meeting. He frowned as he scrolled through his missed call list. “Detective Beckett had tried to contact me at least half a dozen times in the last hour,” he said.

Bianca checked her own phone and huffed. “Really, that girl gets an idea in her head and she won’t let it go until she’s worn out everyone around her.” Not that Bianca wasn’t secretly thrilled that the cop leaned so heavily on the older woman, despite her apparent mistrust. Still, Katherine could be tiresome when she was overreacting to something inconsequential. “I’ll call her back in a while.”

“What if something happened to one of her partners?”

Bianca checked on her tracking spells, briefly blocking out the sounds of the hall while she concentrated on the retrogressed officers. “No, they’re fine,” she said at last. Randy’s concern remained, but he didn’t press the issue. 

The hall where the Council met was nearly empty now as the rest of the witches returned to their lives outside of their civic duty to the craft. An attendant to the building had turned on a television in the corner to a local news station. The story unfolding on the screen drew the attention of the doctor, who hurried over to get a closer look at the small set once he’d realized what had happened. 

Bianca’s unrelenting curiosity moved her towards the picture of the inferno that had once been a five story office building at the south end of the city. To her practiced eye, the flames look unnatural, as if a witch had been involved in the arson. As for why this particular building had drawn the ire of one of her dark counterparts, that was revealed when Randy started coughing around his shock.

“Bianca, that’s my office building,” he said incredulously. “My clinic is on the third floor.” That made sense to Bianca in a way she didn’t like. She watched Randy pull out his phone again and compare the approximate time of the explosion to the first of Katherine’s calls. “How much do you want to bet that this is why Detective Beckett has been trying to reach us?”

“Call her,” said Bianca crisply. “I’ll see what I can find out about this affront.” Randy nodded in agreement, already depressing the call button on his phone and moving to a corner for some measure of privacy. Bianca checked to make sure she had all of her belongings before heading towards the street. She could think of only one being that could have felt the need to vent his anger at the doctor, and that same being would be coming after her, for the same reason. 

Bianca rounded the corner of the stately, late nineteenth century building and stopped dead in her tracks. Fifteen yards in front of her stood a man. His face was disguised in an unnatural shadow though he stood in the full daylight, his dark clothes standing out in stark contrast to the pale brown stones of the surrounding architecture. 

The two witches held their positions for what felt like an eon though it was probably less than a minute. Bianca’s light, ivory wrap fluttered around her bare arms as a slight breeze picked up. They both recognized each other, though the stranger was known to Bianca only superficially. He was the necromancer who’d supported Rayford at the Bellefonte matriarch’s funeral. He was therefore also the one known as “Dresden”, the employer of Saul Davis and recent benefactor of Rayford. He would come for her himself. He was the only one strong enough to do so. 

But Bianca had lived too long to be afraid of posturing. She held her ground as he closed the distance between them, only stopping when he stood uncomfortably close to her. His malevolent presence surrounded her, picking at the edges of her bright aura. 

“Castova,” he said slowly, drawing her long abandoned surname over his tongue in a way that reminded her of a snake’s hiss. 

“Bianca,” she corrected, asserting herself. “State your business for I have no interest in tarrying with you.”

“My business is to warn you stay out of mine,” he replied in the same cringe-inducing voice. Fortunately, Bianca did not cringe. “Your status protects you for as only as long as I chose to respect it. Do not interfere with my plans again.”

“Or you’ll try to murder me, as well?” she challenged.

“That was a warning to you both,” Dresden replied. “You may keep your pet doctor as long as you keep him on a short leash.”

“Anything that Randall Bellefonte has done has been at my behest,” she stated. “You will not target him again and I will not stand down in the face of your vile misuse of our gifts.”

“Do not test my patience, bitch,” he seethed. 

She raised her hand to smack him for his insult. He caught her wrist in a punishing grip that would surely bruise. She bore the discomfort stoically, giving no sign that he was hurting her. “Unhand me, you uncouth animal,” she spat. She clocked him with a much less lady-like left hook to the jaw that sent him back a couple of steps and freed her from his grasp. 

“You will regret what fate you have wrought for your friends, Castova. There will be no safe place for any of them to hide and when I have finished with them, I will come for you.” 

“I will be waiting,” she promised. 

In the blink of an eye he was gone. Unable to sense any of his dark aura, Bianca consoled herself that he had truly parted. She stiffly sought out the support of the solid stone façade cladding the towering building next to her. She cradled her wrist against her chest as she breathed shallowly. The images she’d seen in his mind during their brief contact flashed through her thoughts again. This time, not needing to disguise her unease, her heart raced and moisture beaded at her temples. 

_Katherine Beckett sat in the corner of a damp prison with three walls of cold stone that offered her little protection against the wrath of the one standing opposite the steel bars that formed the fourth wall. She would have risen, but she was protectively cradling her younger child as she stared hatefully at Dresden._

_“What have you done with Javier?” she demanded. Her voice was rough, as if she’d been screaming for an extended period of time. Telltale streaks in the dust covering her face proved that her introduction to the cell had not been without conflict._

_“He has started his training, which was unfortunately delayed by your meddling in my affairs,” Dresden answered with equal venom._

_“Give him back to me.” Katherine coughed around her parched throat. “And I will see that you get a fair trial.”_

_“There will be no trial and you will not see the boy again. That the two of you are even alive shows my infinite mercy.”_

_“This is not mercy,” retorted the detective. “If your intention is to kill me, then do it, because I will never stop hunting you.”_

_“Do not tempt me,” Dresden advised. “Your pretty face has bought you some time, but do not think I will overlook your insubordination in preference for your presence in my bed, wench.”_

_“That will never happen,” Katherine stated resolutely._

_“You shall willingly submit to me or I will take my pleasure in your colleague. The ways I will torture him and drag out his miserable death have not yet entered your darkest nightmares.” Dresden’s form glowed slightly and the child in Katherine’s arms cried out hoarsely. Katherine instinctively curled more tightly around him, as if she could shield him with her own body. “But don’t worry, you will be allowed to watch, so that the memories may haunt you until your own pathetic return to dust.”_

_Katherine finally made the wise choice to bite her tongue. She rocked her partner jerkily as fresh tears leaked from her tightly closed eyes to wet the child’s dark blonde hair. Dresden finally grew bored of the pair and departed. He passed another dungeon-like cell, in which lay the unmoving body of Randall._

Bianca wiped her hand over her face to steady herself. It was only a glimpse into the future as Dresden imagined it and not guaranteed. One thing was certain, however; she could destroy that future if the retrogression was undone before it came to pass. There was no time left.

xXx

Beckett did not possess the vocabulary to describe the relief she felt when she finally spoke to Randy. He sounded a little shaken up but she could tell that the reality of the explosion hadn’t really sunk in yet. She’d had over an hour to come to terms with the attempt on the doctor’s life and the possible ramifications that would have resulted if he had died. Now, she was ready for answers and Randy’s assurance that Bianca was looking into the matter meant nothing to the detective.

“I’m going to the precinct,” she announced to her captive audience of two. Javier blinked tiredly at her and forewent his anticipated insistence that he accompany her. Something in his drowsy countenance sparked her suspicion. Kevin had drifted off awfully easily under Castle’s administrations, too, now that she thought about it. She made a mental note to grill her boyfriend about what he’d given her babies when she returned. 

“Kate, I thought Randy was fine,” argued said culpable boyfriend.

“He is, for now, but whoever set fire to his office clearly had bad intentions. I mean to figure this out before he has the chance to hire another hit.”

“He?”

“Rayford, obviously,” said Beckett. “Who else would want Randy dead?”

“At the rate we’re accumulating enemies, it could be anyone,” said Castle. His pessimism was unhelpful. “And if it is Rayford, shouldn’t you keep your distance? The whole kidnapping fiasco was borne of his obsession with you.”

“He’s in jail,” Beckett reminded him. “He can’t do anything to me.”

“You think he blew up his brother’s place of work!” Castle guiltily looked over at the boys. Javier perked up a little at the outburst but Kevin continued to sleep soundly. 

“I think he hired someone to blow up Randy’s place of work,” corrected Beckett. “Which means that he could also hire someone to blow up my place of work, or our place of residence.”

“I thought you said you were going to the precinct.”

“I am, after I go to the jail.” Rayford had been moved to a New York penitentiary to await his trial, since the majority of his crimes had been committed in the Big Apple. The lawyers from Vermont would have to make the trip if they wanted to tack on any of their charges. 

“There’s no way I can talk you out of this, is there?” Beckett didn’t like it when Castle looked defeated. It was such an unnatural state for him. 

“If I didn’t need you here, keeping the boys safe, I’d be pleading with you to come with me,” she said. “I hate doing all of this without you, Rick, but it’s the only way we can end this and go back to normal.”

“I know,” replied the writer. “Just, promise me you’ll be careful, and text me every five minutes.”

“Castle, that’s ridiculous.”

“Fine, every ten minutes.”

“No.” She rolled her eyes. 

“Fifteen?”

“No!” Beckett pulled open the door and shot her lover an irritated look. “While I’m gone, why don’t you explain to Javi why you drugged him and Kevin.” She slammed the door shut behind her, cutting off Castle’s sputtering denial. With a determined set to her shoulders, she marched towards the elevator. 

It didn’t take her long to reach the maximum security prison in her dark blue Charger. She flashed her badge at the guard stationed at the visitors’ check-in desk. The gesture wasn’t really necessary. She was well-known at the prison, between her many visits with Gary McAllister, Hal Lockwood, and Jerry Tyson. She requested an audience with Rayford Bellefonte.

Unlike her meetings with her past foes, Beckett opted for the slightly more secure booth where she and Rayford would be separated by a plate of Plexiglas and only able to hear each other through the use of phones. She was already seated when the guard escorted the prisoner to his seat. The orange jumpsuit washed out the witch’s artificially pale complexion even more and the mandatory showers did nothing to address the greasiness of his black hair. His scowl as he regarded her, however, was very familiar. 

“I have nothing to say to you,” opened up the incarcerated witch. 

Beckett ignored him. “Someone tried to murder your brother this afternoon. What do you know about that?”

“Nothing,” said the man with no hesitation. He was silent for a minute before continuing. “You said, ‘tried.’ So whoever it was, they were unsuccessful?” Beckett wasn’t quite sure how to interpret the mixture of disappointment and relief she could see in him. She surmised that he was probably unhappy that his younger brother still drew air, yet pleased that he might still get to be the one who put an end to that ability. Well, he’d never get that chance if Beckett had her way. 

Beckett once again ignored his question. “Did you hire someone to kill your brother?”

“Like who? You stole from me the only one who ever cared for me. Randy murdered my beloved mother. Why haven’t you locked him up in this despicable hell?”

“Actually, Winston Kennedy murdered your mother. Randy just exorcised her rotting corpse. But you already know all this, since you assassinated Kennedy in cold blood and then used black magic to bring your mother back to life.”

“Semantics,” he said dismissively. 

“So, who did you hire? Was it your old business buddy, Saul Davis?”

“He has left me in here to rot,” sneered Rayford. “As if it were my fault that Bianca Castova destroyed my powers.” The hatred he poured into the white witch’s name made his distaste for his brother and Beckett seem like minor annoyances. She internalized her shudder and pressed forward with her interrogation. 

“If it wasn’t you who backed the attempted murder of your brother, then who?”

“Isn’t it _your_ job to find murderers, Detective?”

“That’s what I’m doing, so give me a name.”

“The Count of Monte Cristo.”

Beckett momentarily regretted her choice of local. She wanted to reach through the divider and smack the smug smirk off of his face. “Don’t mess with me, Bellefonte. I’m not in the mood.”

“Well, it’s only fair, considering the way you messed up my life.”

“I would have been more than happy to let you go on with your pathetic existence had your mother not turned my partners into little kids,” snapped Beckett, her own control slipping for a second. 

“It had to be done to get that disgusting leech Hanson off of our backs,” argued Rayford. “It was none of your concern.”

Beckett felt the urge to bang her head against the cheap linoleum counter. What part of “you turned my partners into little kids” was so difficult for the deranged witch to connect with her “interference” in his life? Still, he’d made an interesting comment that Beckett was willing to follow down the rabbit hole for a minute. 

“What did Hanson do to you?” She gambled that phrasing the inquiry as if Rayford had truly been the victim would get him to cooperate. Her bet paid off. 

“When that roach found out that Mother had developed a retrogression spell, he forced Sera to work for him in exchange for not turning them both in to the Council. He turned something beautiful into something horrid.” Rayford’s eyes darkened. “Unlike my ungrateful brother, Sera appreciated my benevolent mother’s talent and revered her. It was nothing less than what a witch of her caliber deserved. In return, Mother helped Sera relive her childhood in hopes of undoing the damage that years of drug abuse had caused.”

“But the spell was harmful to Sera, wasn’t it?” Beckett dredged up all of her mental files on Valduerez and what she had learned during her own experiences with retrogression. 

“It was destroying her body worse than the drugs,” said Rayford angrily. “But Hanson would not relent, always pushing mother to make Sera small for longer periods and more often. Mother feared for Sera’s health and Hanson did not care. He continuously threatened to reveal her special spell to the Council, where they would steal it and pollute it for their own use. We tried everything to appease his greed and when that did not work, Sera tried to kill him.”

“She fired a shotgun in his office,” said Beckett. 

“For which he had her cut down in an alley like a common rat.” Rayford’s anger flared and the small bit of his own natural ability flared with it. Fortunately, none of the guards appeared to notice. 

“But Hanson didn’t kill her. Who did?”

“Hanson.”

Beckett mentally sighed. Rayford was very good and assigning blame to the wrong people. She did not doubt that Hanson played a part in Valduerez’s death, but she was certain he was not the one who pulled the trigger. “If Sera was already dead, why curse the detectives investigating her murder?”

“Mother devised the ingenious plan to make a trade with Hanson. She could now cast permanent retrogression spells, though she would not test such a powerful spell on Sera. She would perfect her spell and once her test subject survived, she would trade it for Sera’s freedom. Hanson broke his end of the deal and had Sera murdered.”

Beckett had to physically swallow her disgust at how Rayford talked about her partners like they were nothing more than lab rats, not human beings. She was so sick of these witches thinking that her boys could be traded around like commodities just because they didn’t possess any magical ability of their own. The only thing that helped Beckett maintain her charade of helping Rayford was the memory of the unidentified bodies in the lean-to where Javier and Kevin had been found. “How many people died as a result of your mother’s failed spells?”

“My mother does not _fail_ ,” said the witch. “Those weak humans were not strong enough to serve their purpose.”

“So you admit that the bodies found in your shack at Green Mountain National Forest were the victims of your mother’s spell?”

“No,” said Rayford, catching wind of her attempt to trap him in a confession for anything. It didn’t matter, because Beckett would draw the connection from somewhere else. This visit had been a success for one of her cases, though she still didn’t know who had targeted Randy. 

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Bellefonte. I’ll be in touch.” Beckett rose fluidly and turned her back on the slimy man. She hoped to meet him face to face as few times as possible. 

_to be continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Happy New Year!** _
> 
> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.   
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art!


	58. Third Saturday Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Bianca stops by to visit and brings more questions than answers...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Fifty-Eight

Castle tried to distract himself from his concern for Kate by working on his much neglected Nikki Heat novel, though his mind wandered away from his fictional heroine easily. His girlfriend had been gone for nearly an hour now with no word on the state of her well-being or estimated return time. The first ten minutes had passed quickly as he struggled to soothe Javier’s ruffled feathers, caused by Kate’s unfairly leveraged accusation that he had drugged the kids. Fortunately, the herbal supplement had failed to work on the older boy, so Javier eventually let the argument peeter out. Still, he was emitting rather unpleasant waves of irritation from his seat on the couch where he was playing Angry Birds on his phone. 

Kevin still slept, for which Castle was glad. The nine-year-old had pretty much made it through the whole day without becoming feverish or nauseous from his anemia, despite the excitement of the afternoon. Even so, the illness sapped him of his usual strength and the nap could only be doing him good. 

With a sigh, he forced himself to concentrate on getting Heat into, and then back out of, dire trouble. It was much more fun to push his characters to their limits than to actually live through trying times himself. At least he knew things would eventually work out for Heat, Rook, and Roach. His latest attempt at writing lasted until his first comma, but this time he was interrupted by his doorbell. He would adamantly deny that he jumped in his seat at the unexpected sound, even if Javier had been watching him and would vouch the opposite. 

Castle carefully set his laptop down on the coffee table and slunk over to the couch so he could lean down and check on the blond. Kevin lay on his stomach, his head now flat on the leather cushion as he slowly breathed in and out. Castle gently pulled Honeymilk over, covering the nine-year-old with the large toy. The bear didn’t actually do much to hide the kid, but maybe it would afford him an extra second of anonymity if it was a bad witch on the other side of the door. 

He tiptoed towards the door with Javier right beside him. When they reached the door, Castle nudged the shrunken detective behind him and then peered through the peephole. He recognized the woman on the other side of the door and stood up straight, feeling a bit sheepish. He wasn’t completely relieved to recognize the white witch, but the alternatives could be a lot worse. 

“Bianca,” he greeted as he opened the door for her. 

“Richard,” she replied in kind. “Hello, _tesoro_.” Her voice was a lot sweeter when she addressed the eleven-year-old peeking out at her from behind the writer. Must be nice to be little and have everyone think you’re adorable.

“Kate didn’t tell me you were coming over,” said Castle. He motioned towards the kitchen, implying his offer of a beverage. He could be a good host, even if his guest was unexpected. 

“I did not have a chance to warn her beforehand. She’s not here?” Bianca glanced around the open space of the loft, confirming that the detective was not at home.

“She thinks Rayford might have something to do with the explosion at Randy’s office, so she went down to the jail to interrogate him,” explained Castle. 

“Oh. I hope she gets something useful out of him,” replied the witch. Castle had the strange feeling that Bianca doubted that Kate would make any progress on that lead, probably because she knew something that she was once again not sharing. He mentally sighed. 

“Right. Would you like a glass of wine, or something softer?”

“Water is fine, dear.”

“Do you want anything, Javi?”

“Not from you,” said the detective, giving the writer a distrustful look. Bianca raised a questioning eyebrow at Castle while doing a poor job disguising an amused smirk.

“He thinks I’m trying to drug him,” said Castle dismissively. 

“You _did_ try to,” stated Javier. 

“Well, who can blame me? You never give me a moment of peace.” Castle swatted at the boy’s head as he moved to retrieve water bottles and a juice box from the refrigerator. “Don’t tell Martha I gave this to you, okay?” He handed the sugary drink to the eleven-year-old. One of the chilled bottles went to Bianca and he kept the second for himself. 

“I think that if you were to count the number of times you’ve been mean to me and compare it to the times I’ve messed with you, the scale would lean heavily to your side,” said Javier. He stabbed the cardboard container with the plastic straw a bit more aggressively than was necessary.

Castle looked over at Bianca. “I thought kids knew how to count by his age. I guess I was wrong.”

“ _See_.” Javier scowled at the older man. The effect was ruined as he slurped his drink through the tiny straw. 

“I do see what you mean, _mijo_ ,” said Bianca. She winked at Castle. “Come, tell me what you’ve done today. I see you’re wearing a Yankees jersey.” She held out her hand to the boy. Javier didn’t even seem to realize that he let her wrap her long fingers around his small hand as he launched into the tale of the trip to the Legend’s Suite. They walked towards the sitting area together. Castle trailed behind them, frowning. He didn’t want Javier to feel comfortable around the mysterious woman, yet she seemed unnaturally good at getting him to let his guard down around her in short order. At least Kevin still seemed to prefer to keep the witches at a large distance. 

Speaking of his younger child - Bianca had discovered his resting place and moved the bear away so she could sit down and lift the nine-year-old into her lap. Kevin’s face scrunched up in dislike of the movement, but he settled quickly with the back of his head cradled in the crook of her arm and Bianca’s other hand cupping his cheek. 

“Why don’t you let me take him?” said Castle, reaching for the blond. “He’s not going to be happy if he wakes up and you’re holding him.”

“Just a minute,” she said, not looking away from the Irishman. The palm of her hand started to glow faintly where it was pressed against his pale cheek. 

Castle immediately jumped in to intercede. “And we’re not using any magic on this one,” he said as he picked Kevin up under the arms. Bianca let him take the child without complaint, which was good since this time the rapid change in position did wake up the cursed detective. Kevin, quickly realizing that it was the trustworthy writer who had him, latched on to the older man like the limpet he was and didn’t even seem to notice that a second ago he’d been at the mercy of the white witch. 

“He’s improving rapidly,” said Bianca. She smiled warmly at Javier. “Perhaps it will be possible to return him to his true age after all.”

They were interrupted by the arrival of Alexis, who tromped down the stairs to see who had arrived. She looked surprised at the sight of the stranger, though Bianca was overtly interested in the redhead. “Hi,” said the teenager awkwardly. 

“Hello, my dear,” said Bianca.

“Bianca, this is my daughter, Alexis. Lex, meet Bianca, the white witch.” He tried to telepathically compel his daughter to go back upstairs, not wanting any of the witches to become fixated on her, as well. To his dismay, Alexis blocked his urgent brain waves. 

An “Oh” look crossed Alexis’ face and she finished her trek down the stairs to walk into the living area. Bianca rose to meet her and shook her hand firmly. “You are absolutely beautiful, my girl,” said the witch. Alexis blushed prettily at the compliment. 

“You know, it’s already bad enough that you are so fascinated with my boys. I’d prefer you leave my daughter out of all this witchcraft.” Castle wished his arms weren’t full right now so he could physically separate the two females. 

“Meeting new people is not witchcraft,” argued Bianca, grinning widely at the younger Castle. 

“Dad, don’t be rude,” chided Alexis. She turned towards the older woman again. “It’s nice to meet you, finally. Are you here to check on the guys again?”

“Yes, but I don’t plan to stay long.”

“Hopefully you’ll be able to help them soon. I know they’re anxious to be big again so they can start getting my dad back for all the times he embarrassed them.” Javier nodded in agreement with Alexis’ statement. Castle didn’t like that was she taking the detectives’ sides. What happened to their special father-daughter alliance? “I’m actually on my way back to school now. I’m sorry to greet and dash.”

“Think nothing of it,” said Bianca. 

Alexis smiled in return. She moved over to her father’s side so she could bounce up onto her toes and give him a good-bye kiss on the cheek. Since she was already up there and Castle was leaning down awkwardly to meet her halfway, she kissed Kevin good-bye, too. “Bye Javi. Hopefully the next time I see you, you’ll be back to Detective Esposito.”

“Hopefully,” echoed the older boy. 

Alexis gave the group one last wave before turning towards the exit. “Be careful and call me when you get there,” Castle shouted after her. He couldn’t decide if he wanted her to be here with him, where she might be in harm’s way, or without him at the safer residence hall.

“Okay, Dad,” she agreed, shaking her head briefly as she humored him. “Bye!”

“She’s quite charming,” said Bianca when the door closed behind the teenager. “She reminds me of your mother.” 

“Alexis is wonderful,” said Castle hurriedly, wanting to get the witch’s attention off of his daughter as soon as possible. “What were we talking about?” He bounced Kevin slightly to give his arms a momentary break. Bianca returned to her seated position next to Javier. 

“When we can be big again,” said Javier, putting the conversation back on his preferred track. He scooted closer to the witch, ready to pester her until she gave him an answer that he liked. Kevin lifted his head off of Castle’s shoulder to see how Bianca would respond, though he tightened his hold on the writer to avoid being put down. 

“Very soon.” A shadow of some dark thought passed over her face. “In fact, I think that we could undo the spell on you any day now.” Her upbeat suggestion did nothing to ease Castle’s new fears. Something had spooked the witch and now she was pushing them to undo the curses, even if Kevin wasn’t one hundred percent ready.

“What happened?” he asked. His arms were starting to ache, so he backed up to his armchair and situated Kevin so that the nine-year-old now faced forward. For the first time in two weeks, the Irishman didn’t want to cuddle. He was too interested in the developing story and the chance that he wouldn’t have to grow up again. He sat up straight, his focus on Bianca and Javier. 

“Saul Davis’ benefactor is angry that his transaction was interrupted by your finding the boys in Vermont,” said Bianca. “It was he who set fire to Randall’s clinic, not Rayford. He meant to send a message that we should not interfere in his plans anymore.”

“Well, we’re going to,” said Castle, pushing his incredulity into his tone. Who was this unknown guy that thought _he_ had been inconvenienced by Kate and Castle finding _their_ kidnapped children? “I’m sure he’ll be really happy when the retrogressions are undone.”

“Most certainly,” said Bianca. “But I have seen his plan for the future if he manages to reclaim your friends. While the chance is small that he will lose interest if the children become adults, I would prefer to stand against him in that way.”

“What is he planning?”

“That does not matter,” she said evasively. Castle did not like that answer at all. He wished that Kate was here to deal with Bianca, so he wasn’t forced to waffle between getting actual answers from her and avoiding upsetting the kids. At least Javier and Kevin only seemed interested in the parts of the conversation focused on making them big again. 

“How are we supposed to do anything against a necromancer, even as adults?” asked Javier. “We were adults when that hag cursed us.”

“You know much more than you did then,” said Bianca. She reached into her purse and pulled out a silver locket. “Would you give this to Katherine for me? It will afford her a small measure of protection if she encounters the necromancer before we can figure this out.” She handed it to Javier, who took it with a look of concern. 

Castle frowned deeply. “Should we be expecting him to go after her?”

“We should be prepared for any eventuality.” Bianca patted Javier’s knee and then rose from the couch, ready to take her leave. She pulled one of her many blank calling cards from her clutch and swiped her thumb over the back of it. When she handed it to Castle, the address to a small flat uptown was embossed in the cardstock. “Here is a safe place where you may go if Dresden tries to make contact with you.”

“Wait, you can’t just drop off enchanted jewelry, mention that some super-witch has it out for my girlfriend, and then leave,” said Castle. “What are we supposed to do?”

“Things will work out, dear.”

“They’d work out better if we knew what to expect.”

“I can’t see the future, Richard. But you and Katherine are smart. You can trust yourselves.”

“Okay, okay.” Castle made to push Kevin off his lap so he could walk his guest to the door. He had so many more things he wanted to ask her, but even more so, he just wanted her to leave before she offered any other undefined threats and no solutions. Bianca held up her hand to indicate that she could walk herself out. As she crossed the open space to the door, Javier hurried to Castle’s side, his expression worried.

“Is the necromancer going to come after us again if we’re not big?” the Hispanic boy asked. 

“I don’t know, kiddo,” said Castle. He made sure the door latched behind Bianca and then wrapped his arm around Javier’s back, pulling him tight against the side of the chair in a strange half-hug. Javier seemed to take comfort in the embrace just the same. 

“What’s going to happen?” asked Kevin in a tiny voice. 

“We’re going to figure this out.” Castle was glad that his voice sounded much surer than he felt. 

The door to the loft swung open, admitting Kate. She was struggling to juggle a stack of folders while securely closing the door again. “Hey guys,” she said with a breathless smile. “I stopped by the precinct to pick up copies of all of the information for the Valduerez case. Rayford actually told me something helpful and if we go through everything again, I think we crack this one open, finally.” She set the files on the island and looked expectantly at her family. Her eager expression faded to one of confusion and concern. “What’s going on?”

Javier broke away from Castle to hurry over to his boss and throw his arms around her waist. She instinctively hugged him back as she shot Castle a look that clearly demanded an explanation. “I’m glad the witches didn’t get you,” Javier said, looking up at her anxiously.

“They know better than to mess with me,” replied Kate distractedly. She awkwardly walked forward with Javier still holding on to her. “Castle?”

“Bianca stopped by to check on the kids. She seemed strangely rattled by the explosion at Randy’s office. She says it was the necromancer who organized the warning, not Bellefonte One.”

“The witch she calls Dresden?” Kate frowned thoughtfully as she pried Javier off so she could sit on the edge of the lounge. Once she was situated, she let him crowd in next to her.

“Yes.”

“Huh.” She stared down at her lap introspectively. “What have you got there, Javi?” asked the detective, noticing the silver chain clutched in the eleven-year-old’s fist. 

“Bianca left this for you. It’s supposed to protect you against the necromancer.” 

Castle could tell from both of their body languages that neither really believed that the charm would be effective, but Kate smiled forcedly and took the necklace from her partner. She slid the chain over her head and the locket clanked dully against her mother’s wedding ring. “Even if it doesn’t help, it can’t hurt, right?”

“Right,” echoed the Hispanic boy softly. 

“Did Bianca tell you anything else?” asked Kate, looking towards her boyfriend. 

“Of course not,” answered Castle irritably. “She said we’re smart enough to figure something out if she can’t do anything before he makes his move.”

Kate thought for a minute. She bore the same expression she usually wore when confronted with a tough case that seemed to be nothing but dead ends. It made Castle feel marginally better. If she was adopting a take-charge attitude, he could easily mirror that. “Alright. I guess our first priority needs to be finding his real identity,” said the detective. “We’re not going to let him control us through fear. We keep working towards our end goals as if he wasn’t even in the picture. Captain Gates wasn’t at the precinct this afternoon but she’ll be in tomorrow morning for a few minutes to meet with me. I’ll fill her in about these new developments. I was planning to take Javier with me, so he can explain why he won’t be coming in to work on Monday.”

“Beckett,” complained Javier.

“What?” She looked down at him seriously. “You’re a big boy who makes big boy decisions and takes responsibility for them, aren’t you?”

Javier pouted as he turned to Castle. “You’re going to come, too.”

“Sorry, buddy, I have errands to run.” He hadn’t really had errands until the unpleasant task of facing down the disapproving police captain came up. Now that he thought about it, it _had_ been a while since he’d stopped by the Old Haunt, and surely his publisher would love to see him again. She’d been quite happy when he’d finally turned up on Friday. Gates was hardly ever happy to see Castle and he was sure she’d blame him for Javier’s choice to stay small, even though it was Kate who’d put the idea in his head. 

“Well, do you guys want to go through the stuff I brought and try to solve this murder?” No one was fooled by Kate’s attempt to change the subject, though Castle liked the idea. He lifted Kevin off his lap so he could hunt down his laptop that contained the digital murder board software that was woefully outdated. 

When he returned, Kate had spread her papers across the coffee table. Javier picked at the mess, glancing over the photographs. Kevin kept his distance by remaining in Castle’s armchair and staring out the window. He couldn’t really see anything, given that the bright lights from the interior of the loft were reflected back at him from the nighttime black glass. “You don’t want to help, squirt?” 

“No, thanks,” he said stiffly. 

“Come here, baby boy,” called Kate. Kevin ignored her. She shrugged, not interested in bothering him about his sour mood. Castle understood that he was upset, probably feeling jealous that Kate and Javier could invest in the case since they could go back to work whenever they chose. Anything he contributed would just be a reminder that while he mentally could still do his job, physically he wouldn’t be allowed back for a long time. 

Javier could only stand his partner’s downcast disposition for about ten minutes before he abandoned the case file and climbed up into the chair as well. Kevin tried to start a rant about Javier not having to stop just because of him, but the older boy cut him off with a soft look. Kevin huffed and decided that if Javier wanted to share the chair with him, he would have to pay the cuddling tax. The Hispanic detective didn’t seem to mind. 

Left alone, Kate and Castle sorted through the information and updated the electronic board with the help of Castle’s portable scanner. It took them nearly an hour to finish and Castle didn’t feel like he was any closer to solving the crime. Unlike every other one hundred plus murders he’d helped solve over the past five years, he had barely spent any time on this one and it showed. He couldn’t relate to their victim or their killer, nor come up with any plausible motives. It was frustrating. 

The decision was made to go to bed a short while later, since no one was in a very good mood. Sullenly, Javier and Kevin went through their nightly routine under Castle’s distracted supervision. Kate appeared long enough to kiss them both good-night once they were tucked into the bed and then she and her boyfriend retired to his room. Castle longed for her touch and it seemed that Kate felt the same. They tried to comfort each other with caresses and kisses. As Castle came down from his euphoric high and rolled off of his lover, his heart still beat with the same love for Kate, though the energetic passion was tempered that night. 

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.   
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art!


	59. Third Sunday Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein some fond memories are revisited...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Fifty-Nine

Fortunately, a good night sleep seemed to improve everyone’s outlook on life. Javier was a bit apprehensive of making the trip down to the precinct, for which Kate made sure to tease him. Kevin picked up on the lead detective’s playfulness and added his own jibes to the mix. Javier might have been at a disadvantage against Kate, but he could easily pin down his little brother as the two rolled across the thick rug in the living room, barely missing the leg of the coffee table. 

Kate sipped at her homemade latte, idly flipping through the newspaper while Castle finished loading the dishwasher. The adults chatted lightly about their various plans. Castle felt much better about Kate going down to the precinct today, given that she’d have Javier with her. The lead detective hopefully wouldn’t do anything too dangerous or reckless while responsible for her partner. His worries about Bianca’s unexpected visit the day before were pushed to the back of his mind and he barely gave them any thought. 

Kate checked the time on her dad’s watch. “Javi, it’s time to go. Gates is meeting us in twenty minutes.”

The Hispanic detective released the giggling Irishman and obediently came to the senior detective’s side. Kevin trotted after him, his face adorably pinked from the impromptu wrestling match. His dark blonde locks stood out in all directions from the static. The ever-conscientious Kate carded her fingers through the soft hair, trying to smooth it back into place while the nine-year-old complained about the mothering. 

“Be good,” Castle told Javier as Kate switched her attention to her other partner in preparation for their departure. 

“You too,” rejoined the boy cheekily. 

“I am always the model of good behavior,” stated Castle. 

“Hardly,” said his girlfriend with a laugh. “Love you, Rick. Kevvie.” 

“Nuh-uh, you know I hate that,” said the Irishman.

“Mwah,” she replied, ignoring his dislike of the nickname in favor of planting an excessively wet kiss on his cheek. 

“And that,” he whined, rubbing at the offended spot with the sleeve of his shirt. 

“We’ll be back in a few,” she promised her boyfriend, now standing at her full height again. She gave him a much more sultry kiss, causing Javier to pretend to gag. It seemed to Castle that she leaned into the kiss even more to spite her partner, an action that had Castle’s full approval. Unfortunately, she did pull away when the need for air overcame her desire to torment her partner. She winked at Castle as she caught Javier’s hand to pull him towards the door. 

“Yeah, I saw that,” said the eleven-year-old. “You two are horrible role models.”

“Shut up and put your shoes on.” Kate chuckled around her words. She followed her own directive as well and the two finally left a minute later.

Castle turned to his younger boy. “You ready to hit the road, too, son?”

“Can we go in the tunnel?” asked the blond. He had to sit down to successfully buckle his Birkenstocks whereas Castle could easily slip on his well-loved sandals without the use of his hands. 

“If you insist,” said the writer, pretending to be put out by the request. He loved the sound of Kevin’s small giggle. The boy’s mood this morning was a vast improvement over his attitude the night before. 

Unlike Javier, who had to be trapped in a hand hold when he wasn’t paying attention, Kevin latched onto the writer himself. Castle made sure all of the lights were off and that the door locked behind them before allowing the nine-year-old to drag him towards the elevator. He would remember that the mere mention of the secret passage out of his basement office at the Old Haunt was enough to cheer up the Irishman and use it to his advantage the next time the boy slipped into one of his funks. 

It was a beautiful day so Castle decided to walk a few blocks towards his bar before seeking out a subway station. Familiar with the way his younger friend turned into a chatterbox when everything seemed to be going right, Castle absently smiled as he half-listened to the Irishman’s monologue, making sure to add the appropriate “uh huh’s” and “oh, I see’s” to convince Kevin that he had an active conversation partner. 

As was his habit these days, Castle did spare a little more concentration on the task of making sure they weren’t being followed. Either Bianca’s fears were unfounded or whatever tail that was stalking them had followed Kate and Javier, because he didn’t see anyone who looked dangerous or suspicious. 

“How are your feet holding up, squirt?” They were approaching their next chance at catching the subway and while Castle hadn’t tired of walking yet, he had to take fewer strides than his shorter companion and he wasn’t suffering from anemia. 

It took Kevin a second to react to the question, which had cut right into the middle of his story and was completely unrelated to his current topic. “I’m okay,” he said.

“You want to keep walking or take the train?”

“I like this,” replied the younger male. 

“Me too.” He returned Kevin’s sunny smile and then urged the boy to continue with his interrupted story about something comical Javier had done near the beginning of their partnership. The walk continued peacefully, with the only mishap being a near run-in with a speeding bicycle delivery man. Castle’s quick reflexes helped him jump out of the way in time to avoid being struck and he angrily yelled after the fleeing youth to be more careful next time. Kevin found the whole exchange entertaining.

They ended up walking nearly halfway to the bar before Castle decided to stop pushing his luck with Kevin’s health. Besides that, he was starting to sweat a bit from the exercise. A cool bottle of water and a seat on the train sounded great right then. He bought an outrageously overpriced water from a vending machine in the underground station and decided that they’d have to share. He could get plenty of free water at his bar. He let Kevin have the first go at the refreshing liquid and then finished off nearly half the bottle himself as they waited for the next train to arrive. 

His verbose friend was quiet on the train, worrying Castle that he had, in fact, pushed the nine-year-old too hard. When he turned to ask what was wrong, he noticed that a slouched woman at the far end of the train had caught Kevin’s attention. The blond’s brow was furrowed as he regarded the stranger. “Hey, son, it’s not nice to stare.”

“Castle, she has a creepy face,” whispered Kevin, his blue eyes remaining fixed on the miserable figure. 

“She’s a witch?” Castle asked, recognizing Kevin and Javier’s code phrase for identifying the magical people. 

“It’s different.” Castle felt as confused as Kevin sounded, but even if she wasn’t a witch, she was giving off a seriously unapproachable vibe. She must have felt Castle’s stare join Kevin’s, because she finally looked in their direction and made a nasty face that clearly indicated she wanted nothing to do with them. Well, the feeling was mutual. Castle tore his gaze away and ordered Kevin to stop looking as well. The detective had also seen her hateful glare and gladly directed his attention toward the writer. Thankfully, the Old Haunt was closest to the next stop. The strange woman didn’t acknowledge them as Castle hurried Kevin off of the train, which suited the older man just fine. 

As they were breaching the top stair out of the subterranean station, Castle realized that the hunched woman might have been one of the retrogression victims that Bianca had mentioned. That’s probably how Serafina Valduerez had looked as an adult, too. He knew there were inherent risks with returning Kevin and Javier to adulthood, but to see the actual physical effects of the spell for himself made him wonder if they wouldn’t be better off growing naturally again after all. He then reminded himself that the brokenness of the stranger’s body had likely been the result of numerous retrogressions and his boys would only have to go through the change once. 

“Hey, Kevin.”

“Huh?”

“Does Javier have a creepy face?”

“What? Of course not.”

Castle wondered why the stranger, mostly like not a witch, had a creepy face if her only connection to magic was being the victim of a powerful spell. If Kevin and Javier were victims of the same curse, at an even greater magnitude, would they not also be recognizable by their tainted auras, or whatever the witches thought they were seeing?

They reached the sunken entrance to the Old Haunt and Castle felt a small measure of relief to descend the stone stairs under the famous awning. The front door of the establishment was unlocked, despite it being much too early for the bar to be open. The writer wasn’t alarmed, however - he’d seen the delivery truck parked down the street that was likely unloading his newest supply of spirits. He was proven correct when he found Brian Elliot, one of his regular bartenders, supervising the installation of the new glass bottles. 

“Mr. Castle!” The younger man waved at his boss. During the investigation into the murder of the previous owner, Castle had discovered the bartender’s predilection for skimming from the tab. Elliot had been eager enough to keep his job even under the new ownership, so he’d promised to clean up his act if Castle would allow him to stay. The writer had agreed to give him one more chance and so far it seemed that the bartender was faithfully keeping the books. It also helped that Castle’s celebrity drew a larger crowd to the historic drinking hole and the writer had in turn rewarded his employees with generous raises. 

“How’s it going, Brian?” asked Castle. “Still with Elise?”

“I am,” replied the younger man. His wide smile confirmed that he was still in love with the petite brunette who sometimes loitered at the bar during Elliot’s shifts. “Who’s this?” Elliot leaned down to get a better look at the suddenly shy nine-year-old. The two actually knew each other - Detective Ryan never missed a chance to drink on Castle’s tab - but they weren’t close enough that the bartender should recognize him as a child. 

“Kevin,” responded Castle. “I’m in the process of adopting him.”

“With your detective lady-friend?”

“Yes.”

“Well, congratulations to you both. Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Some water would be great.”

“Really, water, Mr. Castle?” 

“Fatherhood has made me a boring old man, I guess,” joked the writer. 

“You were already a father,” pointed out the bartender. 

“Well, this one’s a lot more impressionable than Alexis ever was.” Castle smirked at Kevin’s displeased expression. 

“Here, let me make something a little more exciting and if you don’t like it, you can have your boring water.” Elliot mixed Sprite and orange juice together to mimic a virgin Mimosa. It was pretty good, so Castle decided to keep the drinks.

“We’ll be downstairs,” said the writer, lifting both glasses off the counter. If Elliot thought it was strange that Kevin knew exactly where the hidden entrance to the lower level office was, he didn’t comment. 

“I do actually need to do some work, so can you entertain yourself for a while?” asked Castle as he handed Kevin back his drink in the blessedly cool office. 

“Can I go in the tunnel?”

“Not without me.” 

Kevin sighed and settled for pulling some of the old books off of the shelves and searching for something interesting to read while Castle poured through his finances and made sure the numbers added up. He did his best to hurry, not wanting to test the nine-year-old’s patience. He was interrupted a few times as Elliot and one of the delivery men took turns asking him various questions that really didn’t require his input. 

Castle hadn’t needed to worry too much about Kevin becoming bored. There was enough history in the basement of the 1890s bar to entertain anyone for hours. By the time Castle finished double-checking his accounting, the nine-year-old was engrossed in trying to dissect an old record player that was so caked in dust and damaged by water that it was no surprise the thing didn’t spin anymore. The writer had no hopes of salvaging the antique, so he watched in amusement as Kevin methodically pulled out the player’s innards and laid them across the carpet in a semi-circle about himself. The kid’s pile of abandoned books were pushed against the wall a few feet away. 

“So, you fancy yourself a mechanic now?” Castle asked after a few minutes. 

“I think it could be refurbished with a little TLC,” stated the detective. 

“You’re welcome to try, but we’re running out of time before we need to meet up with Kate and Javi again. Did you still want to go in the tunnel?”

“Yes, please.” Kevin reached for the older man, who grasped the outstretched hands and lifted the boy to his feet. 

“So much for your brand new shorts,” muttered the writer as he surveyed the stains on the boy’s rear from sitting on the very old carpet. Castle meant to replace it, but it continued to slip his mind as most of his spare money went to improvements in the main part of the bar. 

“Oh well.” Unconcerned for the state of his pants, Kevin tugged Castle towards the bookcase that hid the entrance to the abandoned tunnels. Castle willingly went along. He had rigged up a lever system that made the shelves easier to slide, so he could push the case aside by himself without much effort. Kevin skipped into the bricked tunnel and waited impatiently by the wooden door for Castle to power up his camping lantern. 

“You know there are alligators in there, right?”

“There are not,” argued the nine-year-old.

“I’ll have you know, there have been many sightings in the New York sewers,” insisted Castle. 

“Really?” Kevin’s face was barely visible in the shadows of the tunnel, though the writer could tell that the boy was giving new credence to his claim. Castle smothered his grin as he watched Kevin try to work out his beliefs on the subject. “I don’t think so,” he eventually said, hesitantly. “I would know if there were alligators in the sewer.”

“Well, I hope we don’t prove you wrong today.” Castle pulled open the wooden door and was hit with the familiar stale air of the closed-off tunnel. He nudged Kevin to enter the darkness when the nine-year-old paused, scoping out the scene first. When no oversized reptiles surged up to swallow him whole, Kevin’s excitement returned and he darted out in front. Castle held up the lantern to widen their sphere of light. 

They explored the hidden cache of Beau James’ scotch, though none of the actual bottles remained after the city took custody of them. Castle considered building his own collection of fine liquor down there, but hadn’t been able to decide which spirits to store. Besides that, it was the scene of a murder and that was kind of off-putting. 

“So, what do you think, squirt? Can you feel the history seeping into your bones? Does it feel like you could turn around and old Jimmy Walker would be standing right there, admiring his illicit stash of whiskey while Prohibition raged above him?”

“Yeah,” replied Kevin. He grinned widely at the older man. “Remember that case we did where you found the journal from the PI back in the 40s?” 

“Do I remember the Blue Butterfly?” Castle scoffed. As if he could forget. He still sometimes fantasized about himself as Joe Flynn and Kate as Vera Mulqueen. “Those were enchanting times for sure, boyo.”

“Your accent is atrocious.”

“And what, you’re some expert on the dialect?”

“Yes.” Kevin did have a point - he’d survived fourteen months and two days undercover with the Irish mob. Still, Castle’s wasn’t _that_ bad at it. 

“You know, it’s never a good idea to insult the one who brought you into the super awesome hidden tunnel,” said Castle. 

“Why not?”

“Because he might have to feed you to the alligators.” Castle caught the boy around the waist and carried him out of the cache towards the access point for the main sewers. The sound of rushing water nearly drowned out the kid’s laughing protests. “I bet they’re hungry. They haven’t had a juicy little boy in weeks.” He pushed open the grate that covered the opening and Kevin doubled his efforts to squirm out of Castle’s hold. He shrieked when the writer made to drop him down into the underground river below. 

Castle made sure to keep a very firm grip on the boy even as he laughed loudly. His delight echoed back to him, bouncing off of the clay walls. Kevin’s giggles accompanied Castle’s contagious mirth. If it weren’t for the mildly unpleasant odor, Castle would want this moment to last for a long time. Still, the smell was there and the writer began to worry it would contaminate the inside of his nostrils if they didn’t find fresh air soon. The older man had to put his charge down to reclose the grate to the sewer before they left. When he did, the nine-year-old darted away, splashing through the small puddles towards the safety of the Old Haunt’s office. 

Castle followed more slowly to avoid soaking his footwear. He made sure that he could locate the detective before pulling closed the booby-trapped wooden door and sliding the bookcase back into place. “I’m all wet,” Kevin informed him, looking down at his splattered clothes. 

“That’s what happens when you stomp around like an elephant,” replied the writer unsympathetically. “You ready to go home?”

“Do we have to?”

“Yes.” 

Kevin frowned, though his sunny disposition returned quickly. “I’m going to tell Javi about the alligators in the sewer.”

“You do that.” Castle pointed towards the stairs, indicating that Kevin should precede him up the wooden flight. Upstairs, he bid farewell to his bartender, Elliot, before taking Kevin’s hand and making for the door. This time they would take the subway immediately. As soon as they’d stepped out into the main tavern and Castle’s phone reception had locked into place, his cell had pinged with two missed texts from Kate, each inquiring about his ETA. He figured it would be prudent to return as quickly as possible. 

He was just about to grasp the handle of the heavy door when it suddenly swung open, startling the people on both sides. Castle blinked a few times to make sure that he really was looking at the equally surprised and mildly irritated face of his girlfriend. “Kate?”

“I tried contacting you a dozen times, Rick,” she said, her shock melting away under the heat of her ire.

“Actually, it was only twice,” he corrected without thinking. He unconsciously took a few steps backwards into the relative safety of his tavern when she shot him an unimpressed look. Kate matched him step for step, jabbing her finger at his sternum. Over her shoulder, he caught sight of Javier’s stupid grin in anticipation of his upcoming dressing down.

“What have you been doing?” she demanded, unconcerned that Elliot and a few of the waitresses were watching in amusement while they waited for the restaurant to open in time to meet the lunch crowd. 

“Accounting,” he replied in a slightly too high voice. He cleared his throat and tried again, this time sounding more like himself. “I’ve been updating the books. Good news: it seems that this month we’re going to turn a profit.”

Kate eyed him skeptically for a long moment before seeking out her favorite little tattletale to see if she got the same story out of him. Castle cringed when her jaw dropped slightly at the state of the younger boy. “Kevin, what on earth have you been into?” She squatted down to get a closer look at his damp outfit and waterlogged Birkenstocks. “How did you get all wet and why do you smell like a…” Her eyes narrowed and she craned her neck to glare up at her boyfriend. “A sewer,” she finished in a voice that could have skewered a horse. 

“We went in the hidden tunnel,” Kevin cheerfully informed her with all of the innocent joy of a little boy who couldn’t care less about the state of his clothes in the face of having a good time. 

“Rick, that place is filled with rats and mold and who knows what kinds of infectious diseases,” said Kate as she returned to her full height so she could properly cow her lover. 

“And alligators,” added Kevin.

“There are no alligators in the sewers,” said Javier, exasperated. 

“How do you know?” Kevin challenged.

“Because only idiots believe that.”

“Castle said--”

“That was your first clue,” interrupted Javier. 

Um, excuse me? Castle bravely took his eyes off Kate for a second to shoot the older boy an offended look. 

“There’s only one way to settle this,” decided Kevin. “We’ll go look for ourselves.” 

“Fine.” 

Kate grabbed the back of Kevin’s shirt before he could complete one step towards the entrance to the basement. “No one is going back in the tunnel,” she declared.

“I want to,” argued Javier. “It’s not fair if Kevin gets to and I don’t.”

“If someone responsible had been watching him at the time, Kevin wouldn’t have been in the tunnel, either,” said Kate. Javier pouted and Castle raised his hands defensively. 

“Hey, he was perfectly safe.”

“Except for when you tried to drop me through the grate to the sewer,” said Kevin.

“Would you. Shut. Up?” Castle hissed through clenched teeth. “And I did no such thing!” he insisted to Kate. 

Kate finally registered the muted tinkling of laughter as their audience failed to look preoccupied with preparing the bar for opening. She ran her fingers through her hair self-consciously before straightening her shoulders and resuming leadership of their group. “Assuming that we’d find you in one piece, Javier and I thought we could get some lunch before I meet Bianca this afternoon.”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” said Castle, eager to accept her grudgingly extended olive branch. 

“Okay, give me few minutes to try to fix this…” She gestured toward their messy nine-year-old. “And then we’ll go. Come on, Kev.” She nudged him in the direction of the restrooms at the back of the bar. “And Rick, when I get back, Javier better still be in pristine condition.”

Castle mimed tipping his hat in acknowledgment of her order. As soon as the lead detective was out of earshot, Javier turned on the writer. “I want to go in the tunnel, too. It’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair is you trying to get me murdered,” corrected Castle. “We’re going to sit in this nice, safe booth until your mother returns and does not feel the need to skin me alive anymore.”

“Wimp,” muttered Javier as he climbed onto the wooden bench and sulked. That was perfectly fine with Castle. His girlfriend was much scarier than the eleven-year-old.

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.   
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art.


	60. Third Sunday Early Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the bad witches make a move...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Sixty

Beckett, were it not for the heart-racing fear she’d felt when she was unable to reach her boyfriend, would have probably found this situation funny. Kevin was clearly in the middle of a retrogressed emotional episode, since her Irish partner was much pickier about the state of his dress as an adult. At least this time he was bouncing along happily beside her, chattering unintelligibly about some old record player he was going to rehabilitate. 

She pushed open the swinging door of the two stall restroom but her forward momentum was halted when her partner turned into a deadweight against her right arm. “What?” she asked, turning to look down at him.

“That’s the ladies’ room, Beckett.” 

The detective glanced at the simplistic carving of a woman in a hoop skirt that adorned the antique door through which she was trying to pass. She looked back at her partner. “So?”

“I can’t go in there,” Kevin informed her. He pointed at the neighboring door for the gentlemen’s retreat. 

“Well, I’m definitely not going in the men’s room and I’m older than you, so my gender trumps yours.” She jerked on his hand and the unexpected move caught Kevin off balance. A second later, they were in the simply appointed restroom with the door swinging shut behind them. Kevin’s face was delightfully pink as she lifted him up onto the small tiled counter between the porcelain sinks. One of the first upgrades Castle had made to his bar were the restrooms, installing modern fixtures that still carried the Old World charm of the late 1800s. He’d also installed the vanities, replacing the beautiful yet dysfunctional pedestal sinks. 

“What if someone comes in here?” He eyed the door warily as Beckett slipped his shoes off and inspected the leather. If they weren’t already ruined by the mucky water in the hidden passage, soaking for a second in the clean tap water shouldn’t do too much damage. She filled the bowl with warm water and doused the sandals. She rubbed at the leather straps for a minute, removing what mud flecks and unknown liquids she could, and then set the pair of little sandals on a paper towel to air dry. 

Kevin, feeling defiant because she was “embarrassing” him, did nothing to help expedite the process of cleaning himself up. Beckett patiently wet a handful of paper towels to wipe down his feet, ankles, and shins. Above his knees he’d been protected by the stiff fabric of his khaki shorts, which meant they were in only marginally better shape than his shoes. She couldn’t suppress her playful smile as she addressed her partner. “What are the chances of me convincing you to let me soak your shorts, too?”

“Zero,” he replied immediately, slapping his hands protectively over the button and zipper. He was trapped between her and the plate glass mirror at his back, a fact of which he was well aware. Beckett laughed and cupped his face to pull him forward enough that she could kiss his forehead. The trepidation slowly faded from his brilliant blue eyes as she abandoned the idea. She hadn’t really been serious about it - while dirty, the pants were more dry in their current condition than they would be if she tried to fully remove the muck. She settled for wiping off the biggest globs with another paper towel. 

“Remind me to never let Castle watch you on his own again,” she said teasingly. She dug through her purse, seeking out the small plastic bottle that was usually rolling around in the bottom of it. Triumphantly, she withdrew the travel size body splash and spritzed her partner before he could protest. That didn’t stop him from complaining loudly afterward, however. 

“Beckett! Now I’m going to smell like a _girl_.”

“And that’s worse than smelling like a sewer?”

“ _Yes_.”

“No, it’s not,” she said with a laugh. “Come on, help me dry your shoes.” She handed him one sandal and a wad of paper towels and kept the other for herself. It would take too long and much too much paper to completely dry out the leather, but once they were dry enough for Kevin to walk around without squelching, she considered them as good as they’d get. She redid the buckles for him and moved to the side so he could jump off the counter. He bolted out of the restroom without her, eager to leave the no-man’s land into which she’d dragged him. She followed at a more controlled pace after making sure the space was as neat as it had been when they entered. 

They bid farewell to the Old Haunt’s staff once more and then stepped out into the bright afternoon sun. Beckett had promised Javier they could go to one of his favorite delis before they’d met up with Castle and Kevin, so she set them on a course towards the modest, family-owned restaurant a few blocks over. 

Javier valiantly resisted the urge to tease his partner about Beckett’s sneak attack with the body splash. Castle, aware that he was currently Kevin’s preferred guardian thanks to the aforementioned assault, decided to keep it that way by also refraining from commenting about the boy’s flowery scent. Beckett figured it would be easy to talk her younger partner into a bath when they returned to the loft, an added bonus from the use of the spray. 

“So, how did the meeting with Gates go?” asked Castle once their meals had arrived. 

“Pretty well,” answered Beckett. “It’s hard to say anything to upset such an adorable little boy, so she didn’t act too disappointed that she’d still be without one of her detectives.” 

Javier pushed Beckett’s hand away from his face, where she’d tried to pinch his cheek during her “adorable” comment. “I don’t know why you think it’s so hilarious that my _captain_ thinks I’m a _baby_ ,” he scowled. 

Castle coughed on his cheeky response and took a large gulp of his coffee. Beckett could see his eyes twinkling over the brim of the porcelain mug. Kevin nodded sympathetically at his partner. 

“Anyway, she just said to keep her updated on the boys’ statuses,” finished Beckett. She fondly thought back the brief meeting at the precinct. Like the Old Haunt, the station had been pretty empty on the Sunday morning and no one had really paid any mind to the homicide detective and her young companion. Gates was in her office, sorting through some paperwork when Beckett had knocked on the doorframe for permission to enter. 

The pair sat in the chairs before Gates’ desk and Beckett quickly explained that they had all reached the mutual agreement that Javier should remain small for a while longer while the group sorted out Kevin’s situation and that with the witches. She’d purposefully glossed over the main reason for Javier’s decision, instead framing it as if Randy and Bianca had had the biggest reservations about changing him back. Not that Bianca was disappointed with the choice… Anyway, Gates had been concerned about Javier’s well-being and questioned him about how he was feeling. To both detectives it was clear that the captain thought she was talking to an eleven-year-old. Either Gates was remarkably good about separating the cursed boy from her memory of a serious, hard-working detective, or painfully bad at remembering that Javier still had his adult mind, despite his retrogressed body. 

The icing on Beckett’s cake, or the final nail in Javier’s coffin, depending on who was recounting the story, was Gates’ offer of candy to the child as the two detectives made to leave. The captain wasn’t exactly generous with her stash of sugarless sweets, only willing to share with her cutest visitors. Javier had politely declined as his color darkened. Gates smiled adoringly at him as Beckett guided them out the door, covering her mouth with one hand. Who knew that their straight-laced skipper would be such a fan of little kids?

She had paused by her desk to check her emails briefly while Javier huddled in Castle’s chair unhappily. She also sent her first text to her boyfriend, wondering if he was back from his visit to the Old Haunt. By the time she finished, there was no response. She waited until she and Javier were exiting the stone-clad building to send her follow up message. It took the pair ten minutes to walk to her car, parked three blocks away. Still no response, so she had made the executive decision to start driving in the direction of the tavern, following Ryan’s eight minute route.

And now, here they were.

Beckett swallowed the last of her quiche and settled back with her own mug of tepid coffee to watch Castle start the daily cajoling of the baby of their group to eat just a couple more bites of his macaroni before they paid the bill. Kevin had actually done pretty well this time, but Castle was the type to look a gift horse in the mouth. She was eager to get back to the loft where she could change before the Council meeting, so she took Kevin’s side in the debate and declared the meal over. 

After paying the bill, the foursome spilled out onto the warm sidewalk and made their way towards Beckett’s Charger, which was unfortunately a block or so in the other direction from the Old Haunt. It was a nice day, anyway, and she felt more carefree than she had in a long time. The walk would do them all some good.

Her phone chimed with a text message from Randy. She almost thought the message had been sent to her in error, since the succinct, “Where are you?!” was out of character for the calm doctor. Even though she knew it was still early afternoon, she double checked her watch to make sure she wasn’t going to be late for the Council meeting. She still had plenty of time. 

Javier thankfully stayed right next to her when she let him go so she could use both hands to respond to the message. A second later, Randy’s reply popped up, urging her to get out of there. Though she felt no threat of her own, the doctor’s words spooked her. She just shook her head when Castle asked her what was wrong. The peaceful walk would have to wait for another day. She took Javier’s hand again to resume the march back to her car at a more rapid pace. 

Her heart skipped a beat when she looked up to gauge the distance to the next crosswalk and she saw the shadowy figure leering at them from the intersection. Even if she didn’t recognize him from Nora Bellefonte’s visitation, she would have understood the intent in his expression. Randy had been trying to warn her that the necromancer was in the area.

“Bad, bad, bad,” she heard Kevin whimper behind her and she turned in time to see him wiggle out of Castle’s hold and take off running down the sidewalk in the opposite direction. She had barely started to form her tongue around the first syllable of his name when she felt Javier wrench away from her. The eleven-year-old sprinted after his partner, ignoring her shouts for them to come back. As soon as she got her hands on them again, Beckett was going to give her boys the talking to of the century for running. Castle swore as he struggled to spin around and start running simultaneously, practically tripping over his own feet as their kids put more and more distance between them. 

Beckett turned back towards the black-clad man who had scared her partners so badly. She stumbled backwards in surprise that he now stood directly in front of her, close enough that his putrid breath wafted over her face when he spoke. “Detective Beckett, a pleasure to finally meet you.” His skull-like face sneered at her from its unnatural shadows. 

“The pleasure is all yours,” she retorted and slammed her elbow into his diaphragm. Threat momentarily removed as he doubled over, she checked once more on Javier’s and Kevin’s progress. Smiling smugly in the distance, in the perfect position to intercept the fleeing detectives, was the cane-wielding Saul Davis.

xXx

A blinding terror seized Javier when he saw the ghastly spirit of the necromancer. The only coherent thought in his panicking mind was _run_. _Run as far as you can_. The soft restraint at his left hand was easily overcome, leaving him free to follow the advice pounding through his head. _Run_!

He followed the blurry figure of a boy about his size, also moving away from the source of danger. Together, they dodged the blobs of light and dark that obstructed the path towards freedom, guided only by the persistent voice telling them to flee. Javier couldn’t feel his legs or lungs burning over the crushing fear that promised to collapse his chest and stop his heart if he didn’t run faster. 

He was just about to overtake the other boy when he suddenly crashed into something firm and unmovable. The urge to scream, to demand that he be allowed to keep running, welled within him as the imprisoning object snaked around his waist and held him captive. 

And then the terror was gone.

Javier panted heavily as his senses came back to him and he realized what he had just done. He’d bailed on his friends, left them to fight the madman by themselves. He hadn’t thought of anyone but himself when he bolted, not even his partner. Javier jerked when he became conscious of the fact that his blind run had caused him to lose track of Kevin. He was still trapped by whatever had interrupted his run, so he set about freeing himself. He had to find Kevin. 

“It’s okay,” hushed a familiar voice, though it was a few octaves deeper than usual. Javier blinked and stared at the witch, whose face was a mere inches from his. Somehow, he’d been caught by Randy Bellefonte. And by some miracle, Kevin had, too. The blond was held securely in Bellefonte Two’s other arm, still shivering as the unnatural dread that had made them forget their friends, their training, and the safety of Castle’s shadow, faded away. 

“What--?”

“Shh,” interrupted the doctor. “I’ll explain later.” He rose from his kneeling position gracefully, though the same movement would have had Castle groaning about his stiff joints, despite being a few years younger than the witch. He made sure to keep a firm hold on each of the cursed detectives. It was the first time Javier could remember ever being so close to the younger Bellefonte, who preferred to keep his distance even as Bianca couldn’t get enough contact with them. It dawned on him that the witch had somehow chased away the mindless fright that had driven him to do everything wrong in leaving his partners. 

“Beckett--”

“Come on.” Randy checked on the progress of the altercation between Beckett and the necromancer, nearly a city block and a half away. No wonder Javier’s legs and chest ached. He’d made it pretty far before the doctor had appeared from the side alley and intercepted them. 

“You have to help Beckett,” insisted Javier, a more natural worry filling him as the lone female of their group stood her ground against the powerful necromancer, her only defense against his magic a Glock 17 and a charmed necklace. No matter how hard he tried, Javier couldn’t see past the necromancer’s scary face. It made his stomach hurt to look for too long. 

“Watch out!” Kevin’s warning gave the good witch just enough time to turn into the attack, taking the cane strike in the side of his arm instead of in the kidney. Randy got a hold of the weapon and with a short burst of magic it shattered, sprinkling slivers of wood to the concrete sidewalk. Davis worked his mouth like a fish as he observed the remains of his beloved walking stick. Randy didn’t wait for him to recover his wits. The doctor shoved Davis back with another surge of magic, landing the overdressed witch in a cart of tomatoes. While Davis floundered in the red glop before the small market, Randy pushed the shorter males into the alley.

Davis apparently had regained his footing. He appeared in the mouth of the alley, looking all kinds of mean as he zeroed in on the other witch. At least Javier could turn off the rotund man’s scary face and just see his snarling physical one. Javier braced himself for the impact of the bolt of magic that Davis lobbed in their direction. All he felt instead was a faint glimmer of energy as Randy deflected the attack. 

Javier wished that he had some kind of weapon of his own, besides the tiny pocket knife that Bianca had given him. He pulled it out and flipped it open, just in case Davis got close enough again for him to use it. 

“Let me see that,” said Kevin, snatching the blade out of his hand. He scrambled up on top of an old crate and was just tall enough to reach a drooping power line that fed electricity into the Laundromat lining the alley. He sliced through the wire and was lucky that the protective plastic around the length of the line kept the sparking end from electrocuting him. “Move, Javi.” Javier took a step to the side, out of the thin trail of sudsy water that originated from the backdoor of the Laundromat and trickled towards the center of the alley and the puddle in which Davis was standing. Kevin tossed the wire into the water. A second later, Davis was scrambling to clear himself of the puddle as currents of electricity coursed through him and the rest of the lights in the alley went out. 

“Well, that will certainly slow him down,” commented Randy as he lifted Kevin from the crate to set him back on the ground. Javier grinned at his partner when Kevin returned his knife. They didn’t have too much time to celebrate. Randy prodded them to move through the maze of narrow roads connecting the backsides of the buildings that lined the main street. They even passed the rear door of the Old Haunt. 

Javier guessed that Randy’s goal was to circle back around and surprise the necromancer from behind, helping Beckett escape. He pushed himself to run as quickly as he could, in spite of the fatigue he felt from his previous mad dash. He desperately tried to swallow the fear that they would be too late. 

He was right about Randy’s plan to dodge the conflict by taking the back roads, but the witch’s ultimate destination was the dark blue Charger perfectly parallel parked where he and Beckett had left it before finding Castle and Kevin at the tavern. Randy barely paused as he snapped his fingers and the locks disengaged. Kevin stared at the witch incredulously. 

“Don’t look so impressed,” said Randy self-consciously. “Get in.” He opened the passenger side rear door and motioned for the boys to climb in. They instinctively buckled their seat belts as Randy slid into the driver’s seat and pulled open the glove compartment, spilling out a bunch of Beckett’s official police paraphernalia. He shifted through the papers and parking passes but was unable to find what he was looking for. “Does Detective Beckett have a spare key?”

“Not in here,” said Javier. “You know how many sleezeballs would love to make off with a cop car?”

“Plenty, I’m sure,” muttered Randy as he inspected the steering column. He settled for gripping the steering wheel in the ten and two position. The Charger purred to life.

“How did you do that?” asked Kevin, leaning forward as far as his seatbelt would let him. 

“Magic,” said Randy distractedly as he checked the mirrors and then gripped the passenger headrest so he could twist around and see out the rear window. He barely pressed on the gas pedal and the car jumped out of the spot. “My GTO is a lot less sensitive,” he commented after his surprise at the car’s motion wore off. 

“You should see my car,” replied Javier smugly. 

“It’s not your car,” argued Kevin. “It’s _our_ car.”

“Who drives?”

“You never let me!”

“I do too.”

“Name one time.”

“When we were investigating that guitarist’s murder and they were doing the documentary.”

“That’s only because you were sucking up to the camera,” complained Kevin. 

“You were still driving, weren’t you?”

“It’s our car, Javi,” pouted the blond. 

Javier sighed. “Fine, our car.” In the time it had taken them to settle that, Randy had adjusted to the quirks of the Charger and was speeding down the road towards where Beckett and Castle were struggling to overcome the necromancer. 

Unable to use her gun due to the necromancer’s protective magic bubble, Beckett and Castle tried to physically push the man into the side of the building so the detective could handcuff him. Dresden was able to throw them back with bursts of energy that earned him a few feet of breathing room, but besides staggering a little under the force of the invisible shove, Beckett didn’t suffer any injuries. Even Castle, as long as he stayed close to Beckett, was unaffected by the attacks. 

Dresden did start to gain the upper hand as the detective and her boyfriend tired. He pushed them back to the middle of the sidewalk and made a grab for Beckett. Castle pried the man’s arms from around her chest and struck him solidly with a right hook that left him shaking his hand painfully. Dresden spit out a bloody glob and raised his hand to summon another offensive spell. Castle instinctively jumped in front of Kate to shield her. The attack split around the couple and annihilated a sandwich board advertising a small deli’s lunch specials. The lovers blinked in surprise at the failed assault and Dresden scowled darkly, his “scary face” twisting grotesquely. 

It was strange. For as powerful as the man looked, his magic didn’t seem to be doing that much damage against the two lovers. Not that Javier was complaining, but this Dresden guy was starting to look a little overrated. 

“Hold on,” said Randy through clenched teeth as he angled the hood of the car towards the evil witch. 

“Okay, the brakes work well, too, but not this well,” warned the Hispanic detective nervously when Randy didn’t start slowing down. The two shrunken detectives braced themselves when the powerful muscle car skipped the curb and its tires squealed as Randy finally braked. There was a solid thud and Javier uncovered his eyes just in time to see the dark figure disappear beyond the grill. To their right, Beckett gaped as her car suddenly appeared in front of her, where the necromancer had just been standing. 

“You two all right?” asked Randy a little breathlessly, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just done, either.

“We’re fine, but you dented the Charger. Beckett is going to be pissed.”

“Well, put in a good word for me, would you?”

The two passenger doors opened to admit Beckett and Castle. “Randy, what in the world are you doing here?” asked the detective as she slid into the front seat. 

He didn’t wait for anyone to finish buckling their seat belts before he was careening back off the sidewalk and narrowly missing an oncoming vehicle. Castle clutched the door handle and back of Beckett’s seat and Kevin landed in Javier’s lap during the abrupt maneuvering. Randy tapped the gas again, sending the Charger barreling down the street, away from the necromancer and his lackey. “Bianca noticed that the boys’ tracking bubbles were getting close to overlapping Dresden’s aura and she figured he might be planning to make a move on you.”

“Shouldn’t you finish him off while we have the upper hand?” she asked. 

“What upper hand?” Randy gave her a wry look. “I can’t do anything against his magic. Right now our only hope is distance until Bianca can think of some way to stop him.” They all turned to peer out the rear window to where the necromancer was slowly rising to his feet, his skeletal gaze fixed on the retreating Charger. Castle was the first to look away. He secured his own safety belt and then moved to help Kevin, who had been displaced when the writer joined them in the back. 

Javier shivered slightly when Beckett’s heavy gaze landed momentarily on him as she also turned back around to face forward. He’d almost rather face a mad witch than his senior partner when she looked like that. Fortunately, her attention was drawn to the empty ignition to the right of the steering column. “Did you hotwire my car?” she demanded.

“Not exactly,” the doctor said evasively. He pulled over a minute later, behind a well-loved GTO that waited patiently for its owner to return. The Pontiac was a dark charcoal color with barely perceivable black hockey stripes trailing back from the front wheel wells. Castle whistled appreciatively as the group climbed out of the Charger. 

“It was my first splurge when I passed my boards,” said Randy distractedly. “Dresden will be looking for your car now,” he informed Beckett. “I can take you home in my car and call a tow truck for yours.”

“I’d rather not face a similar altercation at my loft,” said Castle tiredly. 

“He’s right,” said Beckett. She sounded more angry than fatigued. Javier inched up to her, looking for confirmation that she wasn’t as furious with him as her look in the car might have implied. 

“Hey Beckett, I’m glad you’re okay,” he said in a small voice, putting on his best puppy face. He regretted his decision to test the waters so soon when her fiery look was directed at him. She grabbed his upper arm and spun him around so she could land her other hand against his rear. 

“Don’t you _ever_ run from me again,” she hissed. Her hand came down again, adding to the sting of her previous slap. “Do you understand me, Javier Esposito?”

“I’m sorry!” Tears sprang to his eyes as the third and final blow landed. He was too unsettled by the wild look in her eyes to be embarrassed that she’d just spanked him in front of Castle, Kevin, and the doctor witch. 

“Damn it, Javi.” Silent tears spilled from her eyes. She pulled him into a suffocating hug and buried her face in the crook of his neck. The way her shoulders shook as she held him hurt more than the corporal punishment ever could. 

“It wasn’t his fault,” said Randy softly. Javier wondered if Beckett could even hear him over her rough breathing. “The necromancer purposefully scared them badly enough to make them run, so he could separate them from you,” he explained. “They didn’t even realize what was happening.”

If anything, that made Beckett more upset. Javier wished he could do something to comfort her. He could imagine how worried she must have been when he and Kevin bolted. He settled for hugging her back and trying to withhold his own emotions.

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.   
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art.


	61. Third Sunday Late Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the ending begins...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Sixty-One

Beckett sat in the cramped back of the GTO with her partners while Castle sat up front with Randy. The doctor, mildly assured that they were safe from the necromancer for the time being, drove with his usual composure and answered Castle’s nervous questions patiently. Beckett tuned them out, leaning her head back against the leather seat and letting her eyes slide shut. She ran her right hand slowly up and down Javier’s side as he curled up against her, a continuous silent apology to reinforce the verbal one she’d given him after she’d finally calmed down. She regretted striking him, not only because he wasn’t truly hers to discipline, but because her loss of control had led her to do it. Unable to handle her debilitating fear for their safety, she’d let it morph into anger at her partners and she’d taken it out physically on Javier. Even if he really forgave her, like he claimed to, she wasn’t sure if she could forgive herself. 

If he’d been full size and expecting it, she could have vented on him like she once did with Demming. Rolling across the mats in the precinct weight room was a surefire way to relieve stress and Javier was more than qualified as a sparring partner. But now, when she was so much bigger and stronger than him, it was unacceptable. And to make matters even worse, her baby boy had shied away from her when she’d risen, expecting the same harsh punishment. As soon as he’d realized what he’d done subconsciously, Kevin had darted forward to throw his arms around her waist to prove he wasn’t afraid of her, but it was too late to disguise his reaction. If the witches could rewind her partners’ physical development, why couldn’t they turn time back to the beginning of this dreadful afternoon so she could try again?

She took a deep breath and tried to take comfort in the fact that her partners wanted to be near her. Just as Javier snuggled up against her right side, Kevin was tucked under her left arm, idly scratching at an old, microscopic espresso stain near the buttons of one of her favorite shirts. 

Randy stopped in front of a stately downtown building and shifted the GTO into park. “Where are we?” asked Castle. Beckett didn’t really care, as long as they had aspirin and coffee. 

“This is where the Council meets,” replied the witch. “Bianca should be here.”

True to his word, the white witch exited the building just then and headed straight for vehicle. Beckett and her team wearily climbed from the sports car. Bianca took one look at their faces and tsked. “See, Katherine, this is why you shouldn’t mess with witches.” Beckett rolled her eyes. 

“Your shield held up well,” Randy informed the older woman when he finished locking his vehicle. 

“What shield?” asked Beckett suspiciously. She unconsciously reached for the locket dangling from the chain around her neck. 

“The one that protected you from the necromancer until Randy could extract you,” replied Bianca dismissively. 

Beckett felt her temper spiking again. “Why can’t you just _tell_ me if you’re going to be casting spells on us? And you’re not supposed to be using magic on the boys. Which, by the way, brings me back to _your_ earlier comment about having tracking spells on them again.” She directed her ire at the doctor. Randy vacillated between looking guilty and indignant. 

“It was for your own good, Katherine,” said Bianca. “You’re reckless enough without thinking you have some sort of extra protection so you can get into even more danger. Besides, the charm did its job and you and the children are fine.” Her tone became more grandmotherly as she smiled at the cursed detectives. 

“Just so you know,” the detective said heatedly. “We were minding our own business, eating lunch, when that cretin attacked us.”

“I know, dear,” said Bianca, patting her arm patronizingly. Beckett decided that her head was pounding too badly to continue to argue with the white witch. 

“Let’s go inside,” suggested Randy. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably, probably wishing he wasn’t once again witnessing the two females clash. Well, if the white witch wasn’t so difficult, they wouldn’t have to have these little “discussions”.

“You can rest for a bit before the meeting starts,” said Bianca. “How are you, Richard?”

“Ready for this mess to be finished,” answered the writer. Bianca smiled sympathetically.

The regal woman led the way into the stone building and down a well-appointed hallway that turned multiple times. Beckett lamented ever finding her way out of the maze without the help of one of the witches. They finally reached a large room filled with Victorian-style furniture that very much reminded the detective of Bianca. The centerpiece of the room was an extended table, headed by an ornate podium. “I’ll return shortly. I need to attend to a few things before the Council starts,” Bianca promised as she left the little family of four alone. Randy departed with her. 

Beckett wasn’t sure she even wanted to attend the Council anymore. She’d had her fill of witches for the day and desired nothing more than to sleep away her headache and her heartache. There was a wide couch in one corner of the room that beckoned loudly to the detective. She flopped down on the firm cushion and stared up at the gilded ceiling. It was rather disappointing that modern buildings didn’t have the same attention to detail as these historical structures, even if sometimes it could come off as a bit gaudy. 

“Are you okay, Kate?” asked Castle softly. He sat on edge of her couch and folded her hand in his. 

“I will be,” she said in an equally low voice. “Gods, Castle, I can’t believe I hit him.” Her choking guilt welled in her throat again. 

“In any other circumstance, it would have been a natural reaction,” he said. “How else do you teach a child not to run out into traffic or play with fire? Granted, Javier is neither a child, nor was he full control of himself at the time--”

“Are you trying to make me feel better or worse?” asked Beckett with a short laugh.

“Better,” said Castle. “The point is, if he forgives you, then you can forgive yourself. You love them and they scared you by running into danger. We should just all forget any of this happened.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

He shrugged. “Being a parent is never easy.” He leaned down to kiss her chastely. She reached up to thread her fingers through his hair, keeping his face just a breath away from hers. Even if she couldn’t banish her self-recriminations, she could forget them for a second as she concentrated on how much she loved Castle. She wanted to lose herself in him, block out the rest of the world and think about something besides her mistake in the alley. 

“You have to do that _right now_?”

Castle groaned and dropped his forehead against Beckett’s before they turned in sync to regard the boys. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?” asked Beckett.

“Mildly disgusted,” replied Javier, making a face. Kevin nodded in agreement with his partner’s statement. 

“Not about us kissing,” said Castle. He stood up and nudged Javier’s shoulder as he walked by. “I’m going to try to track down a vending machine. Anyone want anything?” He was answered by three indifferent shrugs. “Alright then.” Beckett was slightly concerned by the thought of Castle wandering around the witchy building by himself but she was too lethargic to go with him. 

“I’m fine, Becks,” said Javier once Castle had secured the door behind himself. He moved to the side of the lounge so he could look her directly in the eye. Kevin crawled over her so he could insinuate himself between her side and the back of the couch. “You hit like a girl, anyway.”

“Oh, I do not,” she said with a surprised laugh. She tried to tickle his side but Kevin was weighing her down and Javier easily moved out of her reach. “Come here,” she requested, promising to not go for his ticklish spots again. The seat cushion was rather wide so if they squeezed, all three of them could fit on the antique piece. Beckett wrapped her arm securely around Javier to make sure he didn’t roll off. He returned the hug, rested his head on her opposite shoulder from the one Kevin had already claimed. “I love you both so much,” she said emotionally. She pressed a kiss to the top of each of their heads.

“Love you, too,” echoed her partners. Beckett let her eyes fall shut and was thankful for what blessings she did have. 

When she opened them again, it was brighter in the room and her neck was stiff from sleeping on the firm cushion. She sat up groggily, letting the thin blanket that was covering her pool at her waist. She looked down curiously at the cover and then searched out her boys. Javier and Kevin were playing cards on the rustic wood floor near her feet. At one end of the grand table, Bianca was reading in the light from the now lit lamps. Castle and Randy were nowhere to be seen. 

The white witch was engrossed enough in her documents that Beckett was able to study her inquisitively for a minute. Bianca had never really seemed that old to the detective, given the way she was always running around being mysterious and infuriating. In the warm light of the late afternoon, Beckett could finally see the passage of time in the soft wrinkles of the witch’s face. She still didn’t appear to be over one hundred and forty years old, but it was clear she’d been a part of much history. 

“Oh, you’re awake,” said Bianca, finally noticing that Beckett had sat up. “How’s your head, dear?”

“Better,” replied the detective. “What time is it?”

“Nearly two forty-five.”

“Oh, crap.” The Council meeting was scheduled to start at three. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“You clearly needed the rest, Katherine,” said Bianca mildly. “It’s no easy feat to go up against one such as Dresden.”

“Apparently your charm did most of the work,” she said. Honestly, she should be grateful for the witch’s interference because without it, she probably wouldn’t be sitting there right now, able to reach down and ruffle Kevin’s dark blonde locks. He batted her hands away and nearly dropped his cards, revealing his hand to Javier. 

“Most of his power is in his presence,” said Bianca. “There is no shield I could give that would protect you from the sight of his face.”

Beckett had forgotten about that. “How is it that I was able to see his ‘scary face’?” she asked curiously. 

“Partially due to the shield and partially because he wanted you to,” said the witch. 

“Oh.” Beckett stretched, blushing faintly when her back popped at the movement. None of her companions seemed to notice. “Where is Castle?”

“He and Randy went to pick up supplies and clothes. They should be back any minute now.”

“Supplies?”

“We shouldn’t tarry any longer. It’s time to undo the curse on the boys. I had hoped that Dresden would take his time targeting you and instead focus on Randall and I. After today, we know that is not the case.”

“Is it safe for Castle to out with Randy?”

Bianca shrugged. Beckett could see the same hunted look in the witch’s posture that Castle had described to her after Bianca’s visit yesterday. Feeling unbalanced by the sight of the witch’s fallibility, Beckett decided to change the subject. “What about the fact that Kevin’s magical tolerance is still below optimal? Randy is worried that the new spell could kill him if his body can’t handle the magic.”

“It would be a better way to die than what Dresden has in mind,” said Bianca darkly. Beckett’s hackles instantly rose and she checked on her partners. The boys were too wrapped up in their game - was Javier cheating by purposefully dealing better cards for himself than Kevin? - to pay attention to the conversation going on above their heads. Bianca, her intention not to upset the detective, twisted her lips into a faint smile. “We will be very careful with him, I promise.”

She had to admit, the thought of having her partners back to normal was very appealing. Even so, she would not take any chances with their health, necromancer or not. Her conversation was interrupted when the door to the room opened to admit Castle and Randy. Each was loaded down with a duffel and a shopping bag. The writer also precariously balanced a familiar white paper cup with a cardboard sleeve in his left hand. He crossed the room to hand it to her. She took it eagerly and inhaled the rich aroma deeply before taking a sip. 

“What did you bring us?” asked Javier. He ditched his cards and climbed to his feet so he could wander over and inspect Castle’s haul. Kevin shadowed him, though he opted to watch the doctor shyly as the older man scrolled through his email on his phone. Castle quickly returned to the pile of luggage to protect it from the pawing hands of their kids.

Randy finally registered the inquisitive stare and blinked in confusion as he looked back at the nine-year-old. Beckett was equally surprised. Kevin had made no secret about his dislike of witches, even the good ones. “Um, hi,” said the doctor inelegantly.

“Are there alligators in the sewers?” Kevin asked seriously. 

“Kevin! Why in the hell would you ask him that?” Javier looked embarrassed on behalf of his partner. 

“He’s a witch,” Kevin explained to his partner. “It seems like the kind of thing he should know.”

“I honestly don’t know if there are alligators in the sewer, though I’ve heard that rumor before,” said Randy diplomatically. He inched away from the kids as they glared at each other. Castle bit down on his grin and focused on sorting through his duffel, trying to locate some unknown object. 

Beckett shook her head mirthfully before mouthing at Bianca, “Did you do something to him?” The white witch replied with an insulted frown. “Kevin, come here,” Beckett called. The Irishman gave his partner one last disdainful look before heading towards their boss. She pulled him up onto her lap and hugged him tightly so she could whisper in his little ear. “I thought you didn’t like the witches, baby boy.”

“Did you know you can use magic to hotwire a car?” he asked. He twisted around so he could meet her hazel eyes with his own wide blue ones.

“Who would have thought that the way into a cop’s heart was by stealing cars,” joked Castle. He sat down next to Beckett and Kevin, having found for what he was looking. Kevin slumped unhappily against Beckett at the sight of his prescription bottle. 

“Borrowing,” corrected Randy. He cleared his throat and went back to diligently checking his emails. Castle poured out a dose of Kevin’s medication. Once swallowed, he let the boy have a few gulps from his Snapple to combat the unfortunate taste.

“So what is the plan for after the meeting?” asked Beckett, resting her chin on Kevin’s shoulder. 

“While we were at your apartment, it didn’t look like Dresden or Davis had staked the place out yet,” said Randy. “I’m sure they have someone watching it, though.”

“I told Martha to get a hotel for a few nights,” said Castle. 

“Are we doing the hotel thing again, too?” Beckett really wanted to sleep in her own bed or Castle’s bed that night. Her short nap hadn’t left her feeling refreshed. 

“No,” said Bianca. “We can move to the flat uptown. It is unknown to the necromancer and has all the things we need to undo the retrogression. With any luck, we will be able to gain the assistance of the Council, too.”

“We’re doing that tonight?” asked Javier. Kevin sighed despondently. Beckett kissed his cheek, half hoping that if she didn’t say anything, the witches wouldn’t get her baby boy excited about being big again. She was not convinced that it was worth risking her partner’s well-being to push the large mass of magic on him in response to a vague threat. Not that Dresden was a vague threat anymore, but she didn’t understand why Bianca was suddenly in such a rush when two days ago she was lauding Javier for choosing to stay small with Kevin. 

“Very soon, _tesoro_ ,” replied Bianca.

“Can I talk to you for a minute, Rick?” Beckett asked quietly. She wanted to see if he felt the same way or if she was just being paranoid. It was not something she wanted to discuss in front of the nine-year-old in question. 

“Okay,” he replied, understanding her desire for privacy. Bianca agreed to watch the boys, reminding Beckett that the Council meeting would be starting shortly. It took a bit of effort to pry Kevin off of her lap. The Irishman didn’t want to be left with just the witches, despite his new-found interest in Randy. As was his wont, the doctor was keeping his distance. Beckett found it odd that the man who specialized in fertility medicine seemed out of his element around the kids. 

Leaving Javier to cheer up his sulking partner, Beckett and Castle stepped out into a narrow service hallway at the back of the Council room. He immediately inquired after her health, but she shrugged off his concern with a short comment that her headache was better. “Rick, am I crazy for thinking that we’re going too fast now, trying to change the boys back in adults so quickly?”

“Yes and no,” replied her boyfriend. “Javier has been cleared for the new spell since Friday. Personally, I’d feel a little better if he were big again and helping you. On the other hand, I find it hard to believe that two days has made enough difference in Kevin’s magic tolerance to warrant attempting to undo the curse.” Castle folded his arms over his chest as he leaned back against the wall. “He’s still struggling with the anemia, that’s for sure.”

“Well, it’s not based on that, remember? I just wish Bianca would tell us what she knows so we could understand why she’s suddenly eager to break the spell on both of them.”

“So do I, but we both know we’re not likely to get anything out of her until she’s ready to share. She wears mystery like a second coat.”

“Don’t remind me.” Beckett ran her fingers through her hair and huffed in annoyance. “I’m not about to risk Kevin because Bianca got goose bumps. He’s not going to be happy, though, and it makes me sick to have to be the one who prevents him from becoming big again. At least last time, it was Randy who made the decision.”

“Has Randy actually agreed to this or is it just Bianca pushing her own agenda?” Beckett’s head snapped up at the question. She hadn’t actually thought about that. She’d just assumed that the two were in agreement. In reality, Randy often seemed to be as in the dark about Bianca’s plans as the rest of them, so it was quite possible that he didn’t have the same opinion as the older witch. “He was adamant about leaving Kevin small and he wouldn’t even say that undoing his curse in the future was a possibility. That’s just what we’ve been hoping for.”

“You’re right.” Beckett chewed on the tip of her nail as she pondered the new idea. “And are you okay with going to some ‘safe house’?”

“I don’t know what is the best thing to do anymore,” said Castle sourly. “All I want is for the three of you to be safe and it kills me that I can’t figure out the best way to make that happen. Going to Southampton was a bust. A weekend back in the city and we’re already being accosted by Baddie McWitch. The only thing I can say about the flat is that apparently we trust Bianca enough to leave the kids alone with her right now, so it’s not a question of the witches’ integrity, but the true safeness of Bianca’s hideaway.”

“It’s not up to only you to make sure we’re okay,” said Beckett. She smiled warmly at him and leaned forward when he unfolded his arms to catch her in a hug. “But I love that you feel so concerned.”

“I’m just as invested in this mess as you are, Kate. More so, in fact. Thanks to Gates, if we ever broke up, I’d get the kids.” He smirked arrogantly at her. 

“Over my dead body,” argued Kate with a smile that ruined any of the malice in her statement. 

“Nope. According to the fake adoption papers, Martha is their legal guardian which means they stay with her, who in turn, lives with me.” 

“Well, in that case, we should avoid breaking up.”

“I second that motion.”

“Good.” She lifted her chin to kiss Castle tenderly, thankful for his ability to lighten her mood. He deepened the kiss but it only lasted for a few seconds before he pulled away. “What?” she asked.

“I’m so used to Javi butting in that I forgot we’re capable of kissing like a real couple.”

“Let me remind you, now that we have some privacy.”

“Unfortunately, the clock is against us this time,” said Castle. He held up her watch so she could see that the dials indicated in was five minutes after three. Unhappily, Beckett stepped out of his arms and brushed her hands down the front of his shirt. “Rain check?”

“Most definitely.”

“Can we lock Javier in a closet before we get started?”

“It’s probably better that you lock him in a bathroom. I plan on spending a long time learning how to kiss again.” Castle wiggled his eyebrows playfully in response to her suggestion and stole one last kiss before they joined hands and returned to the Council room.

xXx

No sooner had Beckett and Castle slipped out the back for their exclusive conversation, than the main doors opened to admit the first arrivals for the Council meeting. Kevin watched the four strangers nervously as they chatted amongst themselves, en route to the large central table. Javier unconsciously sat up a little straighter, slipping into a defensive mindset. Kevin was used to Javier thinking that he needed to protect his younger partner, so he mentally shrugged off the familiar tingling of annoyance in order to stay alert himself. He spared a second to glance at the white witch and doctor witch, who had also turned to face the newcomers, and the three more that followed shortly thereafter.

Much too quickly for his liking, the Council members noticed the earliest attendees and their conversation died out instantly as they stared in surprise at the cursed detectives, seated together on Beckett’s couch. Bianca stood up smoothly and her smile gave Kevin the impression that she was silently gloating that she’d finally managed to get him and Javier away from Beckett and at the mercy of the magic users. At least the doctor looked a bit concerned about the attention the boys were getting. 

Bellefonte moved to intercept the Council witches as they strode purposefully towards the couch, but there was only one of him and seven of them, not to mention the continuous trickle of additional members through the ornate wooden doors. They barely acknowledged the doctor as they swept by. Kevin determined that if he and Javier moved right now, there was still time for them to hide behind the antique piece of furniture before the witches reached them. Unfortunately, the thought ate up the moment of opportunity and the unfamiliar witches were looking down on them, scary faces firmly in place. 

He blinked, trying desperately to switch to “normal” vision. Thankfully, he was successful and now it was just curious strangers jostling to get the first look at him and his partner. He flinched away from the outstretched hand that tried to land on top of his head. Javier’s earlier bravado had abandoned him, leaving the older boy emitting the vibes of a caged animal instead of a confident homicide detective. 

“These are the spellbound detectives under Nora Bellefonte’s enchantment?” asked one of the strangers, as if the answer to her question wasn’t obvious. 

“Yes,” replied Bianca. Why wasn’t she helping them? The cushioned back of the couch prevented him from scooting any further away from the Council members and pushing the questing hands away from his hair left his right side vulnerable to the witch who grabbed his upper arm. He would be embarrassed later about the squeak of alarm he gave up when he was pulled away from Javier. 

“They appear as if they are real children,” stated a middle-aged witch with his hand pressed against Javier’s cheek. The Hispanic detective couldn’t dislodge the stranger, thanks to the others that were trying to cop a feel as well. Kevin wanted to help but he was dealing with his own problems, the biggest one quickly becoming the witch who wanted to pick him up. 

“Nuh-uh,” he grunted, trying to kick his way to freedom. The only person he wanted holding him was Castle and he wasn’t about to start making exceptions. Unfortunately, his aim was horrible and a second later he was lifted completely off the couch.

“Don’t!” shouted Javier. He was nowhere close to reaching Kevin with his outstretched hand, restrained as he was by the group crowded around him. 

“You all really need to back off,” said Bellefonte, muscling his way through the crowd. “You’re going to stress them out.”

“You, of all people, cannot claim exclusive access to them,” sneered one of the Council members. 

“Bianca,” the doctor implored, looking towards the white witch who was keeping her distance. 

“They won’t hurt the boys,” said Bianca calmly. “They’re just curious. Your mother’s spell is something remarkable.”

Kevin decided that he really didn’t like the old woman and she was no better than the hag who’d cursed them in the first place. Beckett was right to question everything Bianca did. He twisted his body as much as he could, trying to weaken their hold on him. “Put me down,” he ordered ineffectively. He was ignored as rapid questions filled the air, leaving no time for either Bianca or Bellefonte to answer them. 

“Have they grown at all since the retrogression or has it permanently locked them at these ages?”

“How has the spell affected them physically and emotionally?”

“Do they remember any of their lives before the spell?”

“How old were they before the change?”

“Have there been any side effects to the retrogression?”

“Why is the necromancer so interested in them?”

“How is it that their auras feel so young when their spirits are clearly older?”

Kevin continued to squirm but the witch who had picked him up had a firm grip on him. Bellefonte was boxed out by the group of strangers crowding around the Irishman and the witches listened to his demands about as well as they listened to Kevin’s. He tried to channel his frustration into anger but the stupid spell’s weakening of his emotional control left him feeling on the verge of tears. He could feel the warm tendrils of magic snaking around him as his second least favorite witch after Bianca became tired of resisting his struggles and tried to restrain him, much like Rayford had done in that dilapidated shack in the mountains. He felt lightheaded as the spell locked into place.

“Back off,” insisted Bellefonte, renewing his efforts to push through. He must have put a little of his own magical muscle into the shove. Kevin could feel the pulse of energy as Bellefonte gained access to the center of the group and he felt nauseous for a moment.

“Okay, that’s enough,” said Bianca. “They’re sensitive to spells, due to the amount of magic in their systems from the retrogression.” She moved to stand closer to the couch. 

Kevin’s ability to breathe was partially returned to him as Bellefonte appropriated him from the mean witch and the restraining spell was canceled. He still felt claustrophobic as the witches pressed around the doctor, willing to give up physical custody of the detective if they could still sate their curiosity. 

“Don’t touch them,” ordered the doctor forcefully as he set Kevin back on the couch. Javier had had better luck squirming away from his captors, probably thanks to Bianca’s delayed interference, and immediately shifted to his partner’s side. Bellefonte moved to stand in front of pair, keeping his peers at bay. 

“Who are you to tell us what to do?” The Council witches concentrated their glares on the only good witch in the room. The man who spoke jabbed his finger in Bellefonte’s direction. 

“If you make him sick again, Detective Beckett will be furious,” stated Bellefonte. 

“I don’t care one bit about the feelings of that meddling wench.” 

“She’s not a med--” Bianca’s useless defense of his partner was cut short when the back door to the large room slammed open.

“What the _hell_ is going on?!” Kevin felt tears of relief pool in the corners of his eyes at the sound of Beckett’s voice. Despite the scorn that the Council apparently had for the lead detective, they did all take a step back from the couch at her shout. Bellefonte didn’t relax his rigid guardianship until Castle slipped through the crowd and reclaimed possession of the detectives. His girlfriend assumed Bellefonte’s position. Kevin thought he could almost sense Beckett’s aura as waves of livid wrath wafted off of her. 

“Are you two okay?” asked Castle in a whisper as he leaned over Javier so he could extend his shadow of protection to Kevin, too. Javier tucked himself against the writer’s side and it made the sick feeling in Kevin’s stomach ache to see his partner so rattled. “Shit.” Kevin must have looked as awful as he felt. Castle pressed the palm of his cool hand against the Irishman’s forehead. Kevin let his eyes slide closed and just tried to hold on as the sound of raised voices spun around him. 

“Katherine,” said Bianca soothingly, taking a step towards the fuming younger woman. “Calm down--”

“I thought you were watching them,” snapped the detective. “Not leaving them to the mercy of the wolves.”

“They were never in harm’s way, dear.”

“I don’t want these useless vultures anywhere near my boys.”

“Bianca, control your pet detective,” said one of the Council witches. The man’s tone was derisive and Kevin hoped that Beckett shot the man for his disrespect.

“They’re not useless,” argued Bianca. She sounded like she was trying to calm a skittish horse. 

“I’m not your _pet_.”

“Of course you’re not, Katherine.” There was a pause where hopefully the white witch shot a reprimanding look at the Council witch, though given her recent actions, Kevin had his doubts. “Please, let’s all just move to our seats and we can discuss our alliance professionally.”

“Why did you bring them here if you had no intention of letting anyone near them?” asked the same Council member with the death wish. 

“I didn’t bring them here by choice,” spat Beckett. “Your friend the necromancer attacked us on the street in broad daylight. Believe me, I’d rather be anywhere else than here.”

A biting static filled the room as the metaphorical hackles of the witches rose with the disturbing association. “Do not dare imply that this Council condones the use of black magic by the likes of one such as the necromancer.”

“Yet you’re okay with Nora Bellefonte turning my partners into little kids?” challenged Beckett. 

“No, we’re not.”

The new voice, heavy with recent loss and unwanted responsibility, came from the direction of the main doors. A soft click sounded as the owner of the husky female voice closed the portal behind herself. The press of magical potential faded and the air loosened slightly as the Council witches backed away further from the detectives. 

“Madam Kennedy,” greeted one of the mean witches. 

“I apologize for my tardiness. I had expected the meeting to be already called to order, especially now that it seems the Dresden has stepped up his offensive against our community.” The veiled reprimand worked to send the rest of the Council hurrying towards the table. Only Bianca and Bellefonte remained by the couch. Kevin dared to open his eyes again. While the white witch looked relaxed and self-righteous, the doctor still was tense. Madam Kennedy exchanged a short, silent look with Bianca before walking stiffly towards her place at the ornate podium. 

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re getting close. Whew. The curse will be lifted within twenty-four [story] hours. 
> 
> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.  
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art.


	62. Third Sunday Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the Council still doesn't want to help...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Sixty-Two

It turned out that not all of the people who’d appeared in the Council room during his and Kate’s brief conversation were actually members of the governing body of witches. Nine Council members sat at the head of the table, half on each side, while the witch identified as the late Winston Kennedy’s wife stood at the podium and called the meeting to order. Bianca was numbered among the Councilmen, and one seat was left open for a missing witch. 

The rest of the attendees took up seats on the antique furniture lining the walls of the heavily decorated room. Randy sat on the couch next to the writer, watching the proceedings cautiously. The doctor had done what he could for Kevin, who’d been disoriented after the witchy ambush. The Irishman now sat miserably in Castle’s lap until the meeting ended. 

Kate sat to Castle’s other side, leaning forward slightly to make sure that she didn’t miss anything but unwilling to take a closer seat and leave her partners open for attack again. Between them was squished Javier, equally as unhappy as Kevin but not suffering the same physically. The Hispanic boy’s little fingers were wrapped tightly in the writer’s shirt as if he expected the older man to disappear again, despite Castle’s arm securely around his narrow shoulders. 

“Where is Mr. Davis?” asked Widow Kennedy. She stared at the empty seat across from Bianca. Castle frowned at the mention of the culpable witch, whose duplicity was apparently still unknown to the Council. Had Bianca not told them of the man’s role in Kevin’s and Javier’s kidnappings?

“I do not think he will be coming to any more meetings,” said Bianca simply. Her expression was completely neutral, as if she was commenting on something as inconsequential as the flavor of the day at Ben & Jerry’s. The reaction to her statement, however, was not as calm. 

“What did you do to him?” demanded a young man seated opposite the table from Castle and his family. The dark-haired witch, dressed in business casual slacks and a polo, stood now and glowered at the white witch. Bianca didn’t even flinch.

“I haven’t seen Mr. Davis since the meeting yesterday,” said the white witch. Technically, Castle mused, that was probably true. It was Randy who’d flung the cane-wielding turncoat into a stand of vegetables just a few hours ago. 

“You betrayed him, just like you’re trying to betray the rest of us,” accused the man. 

“Sit down, Samson,” said Widow Kennedy. 

“My uncle swore me to secrecy, but I can’t just sit here while that traitor goes on pretending she hasn’t done something awful to him.” Davis’ nephew was starting to turn pink. “She means to take over the Council, now that the honorable Mr. Kennedy is out of the way! You were all there; she just stood there and watched as Bellefonte murdered Mr. Kennedy.”

“Enough,” said Widow Kennedy angrily. “Bianca is not to blame for my husband’s death. There was nothing she could do against the combined strength of the necromancer and Rayford Bellefonte, and her vows as a white witch prevented her from doing anything that would put the innocents in the room at risk.”

“You refuse to see that you harbor a wolf in sheep’s clothing,” argued Samson. “My uncle told me of Bianca’s plan to seize control here. Is it not bad enough that she has forced the unnatural younger Bellefonte son upon us?”

Kate had had enough of hearing her ally (allies?) besmirched. She stood up angrily and locked her gaze on Davis’ nephew. “Saul Davis is not here because he was with the one you call Dresden just a few hours ago, trying to steal my boys again. He was working with Rayford during the kidnapping, acting as a buyer’s agent to sell them to the highest bidder as if they were dogs and not people.” The audience of witches started to twitter between themselves at Kate’s declaration. Castle briefly tightened his hold on his boys at the reminder of the terrible three days when he hadn’t known if the kids were dead or alive. 

“And do you know who his most interested buyer was?” sneered the nephew. “Bianca!”

Castle’s gut clenched, somehow feeling that the claim wasn’t completely fabricated. Her interest in the boys and determination to get close to the family had always made him uneasy and now his fear was being realized. He couldn’t tell what Kate’s reaction to the statement was, since her back was to the couch, but the barely controlled timbre of her voice had Castle thinking she was shaken as well, despite her reply. 

“I don’t believe you,” said the detective. “Bianca has helped us many times while the rest of you have done nothing but interfere with my murder investigation.”

“And when you wouldn’t willingly hand over the spellbound brats, she took advantage of a golden opportunity to acquire them for herself,” said Samson patronizingly. 

“Did Bianca try to buy one of the boys?” Castle whispered to Randy. The doctor shook his head slowly to indicate that he did not know. His eyes remained fixed on the train wreck in front of them. Castle rested his chin on Kevin’s head and wished this meeting were closer to its end than beginning. 

“Bianca?” asked Kate fearfully. 

“It’s true that I met with Davis after the children were taken,” said the witch in the same indifferent tone as one who felt no guilt for her actions. 

“And you made a bid for one of my partners?” 

“In hopes that I could return one or both of them to you more quickly, Katherine,” said Bianca. Her response sounded genuine but Castle wasn’t sure how good of an actor the older woman was. 

“Why didn’t you tell me that you knew someone who knew their location?”

“How do you think I knew about the bilberry?”

“You could have been a little more clear about that,” muttered Kate as she took a step back to stand protectively next to the couch. She rubbed her forehead as if her earlier headache had made a comeback. 

“Bianca, if it is true that you met with Davis, knowing he was in league with Bellefonte and Dresden, why did you not tell the rest of us?” asked another Council member. The woman’s tone was more curious that accusatory. 

“Because it was important to keep Davis thinking that his double-life was still unknown and therefore he could keep attending the Council meetings, where I could keep an eye on him,” replied Bianca. “I suspected that he might have turned against the Council, seeking his fortune with a riskier investment. If I alluded to any plans of deceit or subterfuge, it was merely a ruse to gain information from him.”

“This is disappointing news,” said Widow Kennedy. “What did you know about this, Samson?”

“You believe her?” asked the young man incredulously. 

“Bianca has always been a staunch supporter of the Council and a close friend of mine and Winston’s,” said the bereaved wife. “I have no reason to doubt her word.” There was a hesitant murmur of agreement from the rest of the Council, though to Castle it seemed like they were only agreeing with the woman and not her statement.

“You would be wise to choose quickly where your alliances lay, boy,” said Bianca, sounding deliciously creepy and Castle hoped she never said anything to him in that tone of voice. 

Whether he made a snap decision or not, at least the nephew sat down and shut up. Kate had to throw in her last concern regarding Davis. “If any of you see Davis, I would hope that you alert the authorities immediately. Letting a suspected felon and attempted kidnapper go free could be easily seen as interfering with a police investigation by any judge.”

“We deal with our own,” said Widow Kennedy. 

“You don’t have the authority,” argued Kate. “As despicable as Nora Bellefonte was, she had the right to a fair trial. The state of New York does not recognize vigilantism. Your husband was wrong to murder Bellefonte in her hospital bed.”

The glare that Widow Kennedy leveled in Kate’s direction made Castle’s blood run cold and he wanted to jump up to shield his girlfriend from whatever retaliation the woman might seek. He wondered if Bianca’s charm only worked against necromancers or if the detective would be protected from allegedly law-abiding witches, too.

“You are here as a guest of this Council, despite not being a member of our community nor having known of its existence until two weeks ago,” said the widow. “You would do well to remember that, Detective Beckett.”

“You’re not above the law.”

“We have our own laws. Speaking of such, it would do much to improve the relations between this Council and the NYPD if Rayford Bellefonte were to be released into our custody,” said Widow Kennedy. 

“Absolutely not,” replied Kate without hesitation. 

“Then we are at an impasse.”

“Katherine, dear, please give the Council a chance,” said Bianca diplomatically. 

“Even if I was willing to turn him over to you, I don’t have the power to make those decisions,” said the detective irritably. 

“Why did you even bring her here if she refuses to let us see the retrogressed ones or to work with us on our common goals?” asked an older Council man whom Castle vaguely recalled from the visitation at the funeral home. 

“We need the Council’s help,” said Bianca. She shed her indifferent attitude and adopted a more earnest one. “Randall and I alone cannot defeat the necromancer, but with your assistance we may have a chance to overcome him. You are aware that he is a danger to us all, or we would not be having these daily meetings. Yesterday, he set fire to Randall’s office as a warning to everyone that he is no longer content to sit idly by. Today, he made a move against Katherine and her friends, in which only luck prevented a disastrous ending.”

“You are the one best suited to destroying his power,” said a Councilwoman. “What chance do we have against such black magic where a white witch is incapable?” 

“I need more time and fewer distractions,” said Bianca. “Randall has created a spell to counter his mother’s and undo the retrogression on the two detectives. Once they are no longer seen as valuable commodities by Dresden, his interest in them may lessen, giving us the opportunity to concentrate our full energy on defeating him. The spell takes time, however, and with the rate of his assaults escalating, we will be unable to complete it before he comes again.”

“You cannot undo the retrogression yet,” argued a fourth member of the Council. “This type of spell has never been seen before and its effects must be studied.”

“My partners are _not_ lab rats,” stated Kate, jumping back into the debate. “There will be no _studying_ them.” Javier’s grip on Castle tightened and Kevin pressed back against the writer. Castle very much wanted to have somewhere he could take the boys, or that they’d never been here in the first place. 

“You are ignorant about magic and do not understand the magnitude of this spell,” retorted the Councilmember. “You cannot fathom its significance to the magical community.”

“This is why I do not want an alliance with your peers, Bianca,” said Kate. Her frustration choked her words. “They see us as nothing more than objects - _pets_ at best - with which they can do whatever they please. The boys are not second class citizens just because they have no magical potential. Human beings are not _goods_ to be bought and sold at the whim of others.” 

“The detective is right,” said the oldest member of the Council, a white-haired man with deep wrinkles in his face. “We’ve lost sight of our true purpose as gifted individuals of a greater population. Being powerful has made us corrupt, no better than those who make their living in the dark arts.”

His opinion was rather unpopular, though some of the older witches seemed to also a recall a time when they actually tried to help people instead of use them for financial gain. It started a debate, at least, between the members of the Council and their audience about whether they should help the detectives or leave them to their own fate. Kate was pessimistic of gaining any support from the Council and it showed in her defeated posture. She sat down heavily on the the couch next to Javier and brushed her hand gently over his short, dark hair. When she raised her face to look at Randy, her eyes were tired. 

“Can we leave now?” she asked in a low voice. 

“It’s probably for the best,” the doctor agreed. They stood up together. Castle had to let go of Javier so he could use two hands to lift Kevin. The older boy gave no resistance to Kate taking his hand this time. Randy helped Kate gather up the duffels and bags piled near the couch.

“Where are you going?” asked Widow Kennedy when she understood their intention to leave. 

“You’re right, we are at an impasse, so it makes no sense for us to continue to waste our time here,” said Kate. 

“You make it difficult for us to feel any sympathy for your plight when you leave in the company of a Bellefonte,” said the same Councilmember who’d opposed undoing the retrogression. 

“Randy Bellefonte is the _only_ person who has helped us thus far with no expectation of repayment or ulterior motives,” stated Kate. “So yes, I’ll take my chances with him.” She pushed Javier towards the doors and the rest of the group followed her directive to make for the exit. 

“Bellefonte,” called the old Councilman with white hair. “Where are you taking them?”

“To my place uptown,” answered Bianca before Randy could even open his mouth. 

“That cramped old excuse for an attic?”

“As far as we know, the necromancer is unaware of its location,” said the white witch. “It’s the safest place they have to go.”

“If they don’t asphyxiate from the smell of decaying plants,” grumbled the old man. Bianca shook her head fondly, as if she was familiar with her peer’s dislike of her second property. “Send them to my cottage in Riverdale. It’s much less stuffy and further out of the city.”

“I wouldn’t think to inconvenience you like that, Josiah.”

The old man scoffed. “You came here with the intention of inconveniencing the lot of us, girlie. Besides, the place is already warded and isolated enough that you should see anyone trying to sneak up on you.”

“Well, I greatly appreciate your generosity,” said Bianca. She smiled victoriously at Kate. “Would you remind me again of how to find your cottage?” The old man wrote the address on a scrap of paper and handed it to Randy when the younger witch came around to retrieve it. 

“You be careful with that one, boy. Opinionated and headstrong women seem fun at first, but it turns to nagging before you know it.” He spoke as if he had experience in such matters.

“I don’t think that will be my problem to deal with, sir,” replied Randy to humor the mistaken witch. 

Josiah waved his hand dismissively. “I’ll let Matilda know you’re coming.”

“I’ll join you later tonight,” said Bianca. Randy nodded in acknowledgment. The group finally headed out, leaving behind the beginnings of a debate on whether or not the Council should get involved in the fight against the necromancer.

xXx

The forty minute drive to the north side of the city passed uneventfully. While they were out, Randy and Castle had retrieved Beckett’s Charger and parked it in the Mercedes’ usual spot in the garage attached to Castle’s building. Beckett was grateful for the switch. The Mercedes was by far the most comfortable when compared to the Charger or the GTO. She watched the city pass by quickly outside her window and idly mused that this was the same road they’d taken on the way to interview Nora Bellefonte and Marionne Valduerez. However, Randy’s GTO turned off the highway before they reached the exit for his mother’s home. Castle skillfully followed the classic car through the maze of streets to the little two-story cottage set in a miniature thicket of woods.

A middle-aged woman stepped out onto the covered porch as the two vehicles pulled up. She was the type who had aged well, holding onto much of her youthful beauty well into her forties. She tucked a strand of highlighted brown hair behind her ear and smiled brightly. 

“Randy Bellefonte,” said the doctor as he held out his hand to shake the woman’s. 

“Matilda Greenveld. I help Mr. Nichols upkeep his cottage when he’s living in the city.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. He gave you warning that we were coming?”

“He did,” she replied. “He asked that I help you feel at home.” She gestured to the front door, inviting the tired group inside. Beckett paused to briefly introduce herself and her companions. Matilda smiled warmly at the exhausted boys. Beckett wondered if she was also a witch or just a very maternal woman. 

In the small foyer, the detective could look through two archways, one leading to a cozy living area with a wood-burning fireplace and an informal dining set, and the other revealing the kitchen and a breakfast nook that had been converted to a coffee bar. The swiftly setting sun cast long shadows in both rooms. 

“For its size, this house actually sleeps many people. Mr. Nichols likes to host his numerous grandchildren in the late summer,” explained Matilda. “There are two bedrooms in the back of the house and three upstairs.” Beckett imagined that the rooms must be the sizes of closets based on what she had observed from the outside of the house. For how ready she was to sleep in relative security, an actual closet would be perfectly acceptable. They endured the short tour and Beckett wasn’t too far off in her assessment of the room sizes. However, she counted six beds in the five rooms and that was perfect for the size of their group. 

Matilda didn’t linger after finishing the tour. Once she had left, Beckett trudged back outside to help Castle carry in the luggage and the minimal groceries they’d picked up on the way north. They left the two downstairs bedrooms to the witches and claimed the largest upstairs rooms for themselves. The mattress on the double bed in her and Castle’s room wasn’t as nice as the king size one at the loft, but she was looking forward to curling up on it, nonetheless. 

First, she had to feed her partners and get them settled in for the night. It would be an early bedtime, but she suspected they wouldn’t mind. After having the kids change into their pajamas - she was so glad to finally have her youngest out of his sewer-contaminated outfit - Javier joined Kevin in picking at his supper, eating just enough to satisfy Castle and yawning after every other bite. Randy left the unconventional family alone, choosing to inspect the perimeter of the property and check on the wards while they ate. 

The meal, as sparse as it was, worked wonders on Beckett’s general physical and mental health. Instead of running upstairs to hide under borrowed blankets, she suggested gathering in the cozy living room and watching the little television mounted above the fireplace. While she and Castle had recouped some energy during the meal, she suspected it wouldn’t be long until their younger friends tapped out. Javier didn’t bother to disguise his latest yawn as he snuggled up with the lead detective on the tartan couch. On the other side of the heavy oak coffee table, Kevin sat sideways on Castle’s lap, using one arm of the overstuffed chair to support his head and draping his knees over the other. 

Nobody protested when she stopped on a news channel, her attention nabbed by the images of destruction at the building that housed Randy’s clinic. Apparently nothing more newsworthy had happened since yesterday afternoon and the reporters were still presenting unsubstantiated theories about the cause of the blast. Beckett looked past the pretty redhead with the suggestively bright lipstick, trying to find clues in what remained the structure. Thankfully the building hadn’t collapsed and so far no one was badly wounded, though surely the office tower would be condemned. 

After the same images had been shown multiple times and the newscasters started repeating themselves, Beckett’s attention wandered. She first checked on her boys. Javier breathed steadily and deeply, his lax upper body a comforting weight against her chest. Castle gave her an inquisitive look when he caught her eye. Kevin’s tired blue eyes were still focused on the television, though each of his slow blinks seemed to extend longer than the last. 

Her thoughts next drifted to Bianca. The white witch had seen the offer to board at the cottage as a sign that the Council would step up and actually do something useful. Beckett didn’t have much faith that whatever they offered to do would actually help fix the situation with Dresden, the retrogression, or her unsolved murder. Beckett sighed softly to herself and pressed her lips against the crown of Javier’s head, thinking about her selfish neglect of Seraphina Valduerez’s homicide. She realized that she was probably the only one who begrudged herself the amount of time she’d missed recently from work. She’d missed a full week thanks to the kidnapping and its aftermath and here she was now, already planning to call in tomorrow. Gates had been patient so far, thanks in no small part to her affection for the shrunken detectives. Beckett felt like she was pushing her luck though. She needed to close the case. 

The front door closed softly behind Randy as he entered the house. The doctor quietly moved to stand in the doorway, checking on the well-being of the group. “Have you heard from Bianca yet?” asked Beckett.

“Not yet,” he replied. “How are your friends doing?”

“This one’s out like a light,” she said, patting Javier’s back. “Castle?”

The writer poked Kevin’s cheek, drawing a disgruntled sound and puppy-fierce look from the nine-year-old. “Nope, this one’s still awake.” He amused himself by tapping out a short ditty on the detective’s belly, to which Kevin responded with an equally annoyed grumble. 

“We’ll probably head upstairs shortly,” said Beckett. “There’s a little food left in the kitchen if you’re hungry.”

“Thanks,” said the doctor. Instead of moving in the direction of the kitchen, though, he passed through the living room towards the back bedrooms. He paused just before moving out of their sightline. “I’m going to do a little research while we wait for Bianca. Let me know if you need anything.” Beckett agreed and the witch retired to his room. 

The door to the bedroom had barely settled into its propped condition when the front door burst open loudly. Javier startled awake and only Beckett’s reflexes helped her grab the boy before he tumbled off the couch. Kevin sat up quickly, causing Castle to groan at the sudden change in position. He wrapped his arms around the blond, probably to both protect the younger male, and distribute his weight more evenly. 

Beckett regretted leaving her sidearm upstairs on the nightstand. She unconsciously reached for the delicate chain around her neck. The charm still rested securely against her sternum. 

“My dears, I have arrived!” Bianca swept into the foyer and easily found the unimpressed group in the living room. She beamed at them from the archway. “Come on, then. We have work to do.”

“Bianca, it’s nearly eight,” argued Beckett. It was getting late, yes, but Beckett was extremely interested in knowing what had made the older woman so peppy. 

“Exactly. The night is young, and if I think so, then you know our fierce friend Dresden does, too.”

“Why, did he threaten you again?” asked Castle.

“No, but I do not need to be threatened more than once, especially from the likes of him. Where’s Randall? Ah, there you are.” The doctor came back out of his room after realizing the white witch had arrived. “I stopped by my place to pick up the rest of what we’d need to break Nora’s dreadful spell. We should get started right away.”

“Whoa, hold on,” said Beckett. “You haven’t even told us yet if the Council decided to stop sitting on their thumbs and actually start doing their jobs.”

“Really, Katherine, such vulgar language in front of the children.” Bianca gave her a disappointed look but there wasn’t much heat in it. “You will be pleased to know that they have agreed to send reinforcements in case the necromancer tries to attack us again.”

“And where are those reinforcements?” asked Castle. Like Beckett, he’d noticed that Bianca was the only new arrival. 

“They’re making preparations,” said Bianca. 

“Preparations?” Beckett felt exactly as skeptical as she sounded. 

“Yes, dear. One does not simply walk up to an evil man like Dresden and initiate a conflict, even if one has an army. We must plan and prepare and wait for the most opportune time to make our move.”

“That sounds like a load of--”

Randy cut Beckett off. “You’re serious about undoing the spell on the older boy right now?”

“Both of them,” she corrected airily. “And there is no better time than the present. The spell will take hours to complete and I meant it when I told the Council that I needed fewer distractions in order to focus on undoing the necromancer’s power. Time is against us. I’m sure that blather-mouth nephew of Davis’ will alert them that we’re going to undo the spell and Dresden will try to stop it.”

Bianca considered the debate finished and turned to head for the kitchen. “Randall, if you don’t mind, the supplies are in the trunk of my car.” Instead of retrieving the luggage, Randy and the rest of the group followed her and crowded in the tight space. 

“Bianca, we talked about this,” the doctor said, trying to keep his tone respectful as he prepared to argue with the senior witch. 

“Things have changed,” she replied. Bianca grasped his hand and the doctor went still for a few seconds. When she let go he blinked and then his face fell into a troubled frown. Beckett realized that Bianca had just shown Randy what had spooked her the other day. She wanted to know, too. Unfortunately, she didn’t have a chance to complain before the doctor started to react to whatever Bianca had feared.

“Come here,” he instructed, crooking his finger at Kevin. The blond hesitated, looking up at Castle for guidance. The writer nudged him towards the witch. His concerned expression told Beckett all she needed to know about what he was thinking. The doctor’s immediate reconsideration concerning the Irishman meant that Bianca’s threat was serious and potentially devastating. 

Kevin moved to stand next to Randy. The doctor lifted him up to sit on the edge of the narrow side table. Unlike Bianca, who liked to cup the boys’ faces and stare into their eyes, Randy seemed to look past Kevin at some unseen thing while grasping the back of the child’s neck with one hand and steadying him with the other. Kevin pouted nervously at his senior partner during the awkward encounter. Bianca busied herself looking through the cabinets, clearly unconcerned for her fellow Councilman’s privacy. 

Randy finally released Kevin and frowned at Bianca’s back. “His tolerance is still too low.”

“Then give him some _magia firmitas_ ,” she said shortly. She pulled a box of cereal from the far left cupboard and checked the expiration date. Her displeased expression did not bode well for the whole grain meal’s fate. 

“But--” Randy stopped and regarded the blond appraisingly. Kevin returned his stare uneasily. “He has improved more rapidly than I expected, despite still being too low.” He thought about it for a few more seconds. “Do we even have any of that?”

“In my car,” she said impatiently.

“What is ‘magi fermentia’ and why would you give it to my boy?” asked Castle protectively. 

“ _Magia firmitas_ ,” corrected Randy absently as he continued to mull the idea. “Often it’s given to pregnant women who are carrying babies sired by witches but who do not have any magical potential themselves. It keeps the aura of the fetus from harming the mother by superficially boosting her tolerance for magic.”

“I don’t want to take pregnant woman medication,” said Kevin. He scowled at his snickering partner. 

“That’s just one use,” said Randy. “It won’t do anything for the long-term goal of rebuilding his natural tolerance, but it might temporarily give him the boost he needs to survive the spell. It’s kind of like antibiotics in that way.”

“See, there’s no problem now,” said Bianca cheerily. She patted Kevin’s cheek as she swept past, now in possession of an approved snack food. She nudged Castle out of the way so she could raid the china cabinet for a bowl. 

“I don’t like ‘might’,” said Beckett. She motioned for Kevin to hop off the table and join her so she could stand defensibly above him. He shyly slipped behind her, keeping an eye on the witches from his safe position. 

“It won’t hurt him either way, so we might as well try,” said Randy. “We’ll see if it increases his tolerance enough and go from there.”

“A wonderful plan. My bags, dear?”

Randy sighed and gave Beckett a long-suffering look. She shrugged and bit her bottom lip to keep from smirking as the doctor left to go outside and collect the luggage from the white witch’s car. Her mirth faded when she glanced across the small space and saw Castle’s introspective look. His gaze was downcast, directed at Javier, but unfocused as he navigated his own thoughts. For his part, Javier was wide awake now, eagerly watching the front door for Randy’s return and the beginning of his return to adulthood. 

“Rick?” she called softly. He snapped out of his daze and made eye contact with her. 

“What? Sorry, got lost in my thoughts for a moment.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Surprisingly, I think I’m going to miss the kids.” He tousled Javier’s short, dark hair until the eleven-year-old pushed his hand away. He gave Castle an annoyed look. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll still come over to eat your food, drink your beer, and drive your Ferrari,” promised the younger man. 

Castle didn’t smile. “I hope so, except for maybe the last part.”

Javier’s expression softened as he looked up at the older man. He stepped forward without saying anything else and wrapped his arms around Castle’s waist. The writer quickly returned the hug, easily reading into the silent thanks for being the father Javier had always wanted. Beckett had no doubt that her boyfriend had gladly filled the temporary role. She swallowed around the small lump in the back of her throat and looked down at her younger partner. Kevin also watched the exchange, his blue eyes bright as he fed off of the strong emotions from his two favorite guy pals. 

“Come on, baby boy, let’s go see if Randy needs any help.” She reached down for his hand and pulled him towards the front door. The doctor reentered the house as they made the foyer, wheeling a suitcase that was clearly a larger member of Bianca’s paisley set, and carrying its matching paisley carpet bag over his shoulder. “Is that it?” asked the detective.

“I believe so,” he replied. He propped the roller against the wall and set the smaller bag on top of it. She wanted to laugh at his putout expression that clearly indicated he thought the older witch could move the luggage into whichever room she chose by herself. At the same time, the irritation was only skin deep, a testament to the man’s infinite patience and acceptance of others’ quirks. “Bianca, my lady, your stuff is crowding up the hall,” he announced into the living room. 

Bianca emerged from the second downstairs bedroom and completely ignored the younger witch’s irreverent summon. “Thank you, dear.” She unzipped the carpet bag and shifted through the contents for a second until she found a glass decanter with a cork stopper. It was half full of a bright pink liquid and if she didn’t know any better, Beckett would have thought it was Pepto-Bismol. Still, the packaging made it look like a potion straight out of a Disney movie and that didn’t make Beckett feel very good about giving it to her partner. 

Bianca handed the decanter to Randy and volunteered to start preparing for the initial stage of the bigger spell. Randy motioned for Beckett and Kevin to precede him into the living room while he washed out a tumbler and spoon quickly in the kitchen. Castle and Javier joined them as well. The older boy had managed to snag the glass container to inspect the brew intended for his partner. 

“How come it’s pink?” questioned Kevin.

“Because it’s for pregnant women,” said Javier. “This isn’t going to turn him into a girl, is it?”

Kevin turned a terrified expression on Beckett. She felt bad about bursting into laughter when he was clearly in distress and tried to make up for it by dragging him in to the circle of her arms for a cuddle. 

“Don’t scare your little brother,” chided Castle, taking the potion from Javier. “It’s not going to turn him into a girl.” He handed it back to the doctor who was entering the room with a dishtowel and the glassware. “Right?”

“Rick!” Beckett laughed anew at his anxious request for confirmation. Kevin couldn’t see the writer’s wink with his face hidden in Beckett’s blouse, but Javier caught it and grinned up at the older man. 

“Ah, no, it’s not,” said Randy, putting the decanter out of reach of the four people he was surely starting to think were a bit unhinged. 

“Seriously though, you remember he’s on prescription medication right now? It’s not going to adversely react to the steroids, is it?”

“No,” replied the doctor. “Like the stuff Bianca had them drinking, it’s mainly just a mix of herbs. There’s no magic in it, since that would defeat the purpose.” That made sense if Beckett thought about it.

“Will it make him really sick? ‘Cause the stuff you witches like to force us to drink usually does that,” said Javier. 

“He’ll be fine, even if it doesn’t have the desired effect,” said the doctor with finality. He finished drying the graduated tumbler and transferred about an ounce and a half of the _magia firmitas_ from the decanter. “Unfortunately, the pre-spell tonic to undo the retrogression will not make you feel very well.” 

Javier paled slightly at that, but soldiered his courage. He’d already been through the miserable pre-transformation sickness twice and Beckett knew he’d be willing to endure it one more time if it meant undoing this curse once and for all. She, on the other hand, was not looking forward to watching her little boy suffer. 

“Ready?” asked Randy. Beckett nudged Kevin until he hesitantly turned around and took the tumbler from the doctor. Beckett, Castle, and Javier all leaned in closely to watch the youngest of their group take a small sip of the potion. His little nose wrinkled at the taste and he returned his friends’ stares self-consciously. 

“What’s wrong?” asked the lead detective.

“It tastes like those candy hearts at Valentine’s,” he said.

“That’s not so bad,” said Javier. “Drink it so you can be big again, too.”

Kevin downed the concoction as quickly as he could and handed the tumbler back to Randy when he was done. Once again the three older members of his family stared at him, looking for any sign that it was temporarily building up his magical immunity. What, exactly, they were looking for, Beckett didn’t know, but look they did. 

“We won’t be able to tell any difference for at least an hour or so,” said Randy. A small, selfish part of Beckett hoped that it didn’t work. She tightened her arms around the blond again, pulling him back against her chest, and mourned the upcoming loss of her precious babies. 

Bianca entered the room, carrying an old glass mason jar. The liquid in that container was a dark green color and looked much less appetizing than the pink stuff just given to Kevin. Javier took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, though Beckett didn’t miss the half step he took to close the distance between himself and Castle. Randy took the jar from the older witch and looked at it closely. Happy with whatever he saw, he motioned for Javier to come stand before him. 

It was time to end this spellbound affair. 

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a minor correction to chapter 54 so that the time of the Council meeting matches the time indicated in chapters 61 and 62. 
> 
> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.   
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art!


	63. Third Monday Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein nothing is ever easy for the group...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Sixty-Three

Beckett awoke to the weak pre-dawn sun warming her face and a terrible crick in her neck from once more sleeping on a couch. Somewhere, a television droned on. She groggily ran her hands over her face and did her best to stretch out her sore back muscles without pulling too much on her neck. A few precisely targeted rubs with her fingers helped alleviate some of the tightness. 

The reason she was sleeping on the tartan couch came back to her quickly and she sat up to seek out the rest of her family. Most of the previous night had been spent alternating between trying to steal a few winks of sleep and crouching exhaustedly in the tiny three piece bathroom with a violently ill little boy. As Randy had predicted, the green concoction had rendered Javier utterly miserable. The first time Beckett had witnessed the illness associated with a powerful spell, she’d thought her partners had been poisoned. Knowing better didn’t make it any easier to watch her older partner sweat through a high fever and play chicken with dehydration as his stomach refused to hold anything longer than a few minutes.

She and Castle had tried to work out a schedule of going on and off parental duty every couple hours so that Javier, and a short while later, Kevin, never had to be alone. Of course, neither was able to find any rest, knowing that the younger detectives felt so wretched. About one in the morning Randy had rechecked Kevin’s magical tolerance and declared that the pink potion had worked well enough to risk trying the huge counter-spell. Bianca didn’t want to wait to finish with Javier, which would mean pushing back Kevin’s turn into late the next day. Castle had wisely worried about the endurance of the witches but Bianca assured him that alone, she and Randy each had more ability than Nora Bellefonte, and she’d cast the original spells simultaneously. Beckett pointed out that this had led to Nora’s eventual death, to which Bianca replied that as long as Beckett didn’t throw one or both of them in jail, they’d be fine. 

Beckett shook her head to dislodge the memory of the snarky comment. Bianca’s grandmotherly affection for the cursed detectives apparently didn’t extend to comforting a little boy when he was throwing up everything he’d eaten since the last time his physical age had been brutally altered. She was looking a bit frazzled by the time the emotional decision was made to let Kevin drink the green stuff, too, so Beckett forgave her snappish attitude. 

Randy had his medical training to fall back on and didn’t react quite so obviously to the effect his spell was having on the little boys. He’d expected the illness and was prepared with an assortment of ineffective herbs and nearly useless synthetic remedies to combat the nausea and fever. Still, the miserable tears and the cuddles required to abate them were well outside of his job description. 

Thankfully, that’s where Castle excelled. He’d settled onto the cool tile floor in the bathroom, wedged between the porcelain toilet and claw-footed tub, with the eleven-year-old in his lap. Beckett kept him supplied with fresh, cool washcloths which he used to mop the sweat off of Javier’s forehead and clean his face and hands after each bout with nausea. He looked no more ill at ease than he did when making his signature lattes in the early morning after a night of sensational lovemaking with his girlfriend. He had merely hummed some nameless tune as he gently rocked the shivering boy that was cemented to his chest, as if Javier thought crawling into the writer would make some of the hurt go away. 

The only time Castle’s invincible façade had cracked was when Javier, choking on his tears and the bile rising from his stomach, had begged the older man to make it stop. “I don’t want to do this anymore, Daddy.” Castle’s eyes slipped closed and a single shiny tear had darted from the corner of his eye to the scratchy end of his unshaven chin.

“It’s okay, Javi. I’ve got you. It’ll be over soon.” 

Beckett had left them alone then, unable to handle her own heartache. Thirty minutes later, she was pulling Kevin into the cramped room to join his best friend in paying homage to the porcelain gods. Castle had taken the addition of his younger boy in stride, his composure firmly in place as he instructed Beckett to fill the tub nearly full with cool water. Together they’d stripped the boys out of their pajamas, leaving them in just their superhero underoos, and deposited the pitiful pair into the water. The coolness seemed to help both their nausea and fevers, much to Beckett’s relief. She had rested her cheek against the gentle curve of the tub edge next to where Kevin was slouched against the side and idly trailed her fingers over his slick shoulder.

“Kate? Kate?” Her eyes had blinked open at Castle’s quiet attempt to get her attention. “Why don’t you go lay down? I’ll take care of them.”

“I won’t leave you alone with this,” she had argued, feeling guilty for nearly falling asleep and doing just that. 

“I’ll be fine, I promise. I’m not even tired right now. You can trade with me in a couple of hours.” Beckett had searched his eyes, looking for evidence to invalidate his claim, but she gave up when she couldn’t actually find any indication that he was as strung out as she felt. Before leaving, she had at least helped him pull the prune-like kids out of the tub and wrap them in fluffy towels. 

Now, it was close to five in the morning, according to her dad’s watch. Beckett easily found Castle in the overstuffed armchair. He had it in the fully reclined position while he watched the early morning news show on the little television above the fireplace. Each of his arms were wrapped around a bundle of lap blankets sporting contrasting tufts of blonde and brunette hair. Castle turned to smile warmly at her when he registered her movement. 

“Morning, beautiful,” he said with a voice hoarse from sleep deprivation. 

“I’m so sorry, Castle. I didn’t mean to sleep for that long.”

“It’s fine, Kate,” he said genuinely. “It was actually pretty easy from there on out. We’re past the messy part, I think.”

Beckett climbed off the couch so she could see her partners for herself. They still looked uncomfortable, much like they had that fateful Friday night before the blinding light had replaced her two junior detectives with babies. 

“Randy checked on them a few minutes ago,” explained Castle softly. “He thinks Javi will be ready for the next step in a couple hours.”

“The next step?”

“Yeah. Unlike his mother’s curse, which was designed to automatically trigger the transformation once the pre-spell was fully integrated in their systems, Randy said he wanted to have more control over the change and therefore left that part out. He has to manually jumpstart the re-aging, or something like that.”

“Oh.” Beckett pulled down the top of Javier’s blanket so she could see his sleeping profile. He didn’t stir when she brushed her fingertips over his cheek, nor did her touch do anything to ease the tension in his unconscious expression. “How are you holding up, Rick?”

“I could sleep,” he admitted with wry grin. “What do you say to moving this party upstairs?”

“Okay,” she agreed. Castle returned his chair to its upright position and unwrapped Kevin so that Kate could pick him up. His legs automatically locked around her waist and his arms circled her neck as he rested his head bonelessly on her shoulder. She knew she wouldn’t be able to hold him indefinitely, so she started the trek towards the staircase while Castle picked up Javier. 

She gently lowered Kevin onto one of the twin beds in the largest of the upstairs rooms and pushed his arms and legs into comfortable sleeping positions. Castle arrived a minute later and did the same with Javier on the opposite bed. “I can sit up with them,” said Beckett. “You should get some sleep, Rick.”

“Only if you promise to get me the moment one of the boys starts feeling ill again.”

“I promise.” She rocked up onto her toes to press her lips against his. The kiss was short and sweet and Castle pulled away smiling fondly at her. 

“I’ll see you in a couple hours, beautiful,” he said. She nodded and watched his retreating back as he retired to the room they intended to share. 

Knowing that this might be her last chance to hold one of her partners as a child, Beckett pulled down the covers on Kevin’s bed so she could slide in behind him. She curled around him, his shrunken body fitting perfectly into the curve of hers. The movement woke him, however, and he twisted in her arms so he could see her face. “How are you feeling, baby boy?” she asked in barely more than a whisper. 

“Like I’ve just gone a dozen rounds with a professional boxer,” he said. He grimaced in support of his claim. “Why can’t the witches make spells that don’t hurt so much?”

“I don’t know,” she replied. She blinked back a fresh wave of tears, minutely annoyed that her emotions were still only barely under her control. She shifted her position so she was propped up on one elbow and looking down at the Irishman. “You don’t have to do this, Kevin,” she said. Beckett brushed his unruly, matted hair away from his forehead. 

“It’s already started,” he reminded her.

“The pre-spell will wear off on its own. You don’t have to endure this hurt or whatever complications might result from this spell. You can stay small. You can stay with me.”

“I’m not leaving you,” he said. “Things will just go back to the way they were before.” His brilliant blue eyes shimmered with tears as he fed off of her emotions and reflected them back at her. Things _wouldn’t_ be the same as before if something tragic happened during the new spell. She couldn’t bear the thought of going into the precinct and seeing his desk taken over by a new transfer, without the knowledge that her younger partner was just back at the loft, waiting with a sunny smile for her to get home from work. 

Beckett sniffled and wiped away the first of her tear tracks. “Think of all the fun we could have,” she said as she continued to smooth down his bangs. “Didn’t you have fun at the baseball game, and watching fireworks on the yacht?” She gave him a watery smile. 

“It was fun, Beckett, but--”

“I’ll talk Castle into getting you a puppy,” she offered. “You can name it whatever you like and we’ll take it for long walks in Central Park. I’ll take you to the Natural History museum and the Museum of Modern Art, whenever you want. We’ll get you a new library card and you can also read all of my books because Castle isn’t the only who can write an intriguing murder mystery.”

“Beckett,” he said, reaching up to pat her wet cheeks. A couple of her tears dripped off the tip of her nose to mix with the steady stream of tears cascading from the boy’s eyes. 

She caught one of his hands and kissed the palm. “You won’t have to hurt anymore, because I’ll take very good care of you. You’ll never want for anything, Kev, I promise.”

“All I want is to be big again, Kate,” he whispered. “Even if it hurts.”

“Just stay with me, baby,” she pleaded. Whether it was a entreaty for him to choose to stay a child and let Beckett mother him or to simply survive the return to adulthood, she wasn’t sure. She hugged him securely and wept into his hair that still smelled faintly of her body splash. He cried earnestly into the hollow of her throat, wetting the silver chain of Bianca’s charm. By some miracle, they didn’t wake Javier.

xXx

A short while later, from the narrow twin bed, Beckett watched the sun rise through the small, east-facing window. She’d finally been able to temper her own tears once Kevin had finished crying himself back to sleep. Occasionally she checked on Javier, whose condition remained stable while he also slept. She thought that the quiet morning, interrupted only by the chatter of numerous birds, would help her find emotional balance again. Instead, the worry that had reduced her to tears earlier stayed with her, making it difficult to even think about releasing her little boy so she could attend to her needs in the bathroom.

She was about to admit defeat and set about untangling herself from Kevin when the door opened and Bianca stuck her head into the room. “Katherine, come now.”

The urgent tone of the witch’s voice silenced Beckett’s idle worries and her bladder. She accidentally woke up Kevin as she hurried to slide out of the bed. “You and Javier stay here,” she ordered. A heartbeat later, she was out in the hall, pulling the door securely shut and wishing she had a way to lock it. Castle stepped out of their room as Beckett and Bianca rushed by.

“What’s going on?” asked the writer, giving voice to the question Beckett had been unable to wrap her tongue around as she shifted from sentimental to business mode. 

“We have company,” said the white witch darkly. 

At the bottom of the stairs, Beckett could see Randy standing at the edge of the porch through the open front door. “Here,” said Castle, pressing Beckett’s firearm into her hands. She was grateful he’d had the foresight to lift the weapon from the nightstand. 

“Stay back,” she told him, easily slipping into her officer training. Castle didn’t argue with her, instead hurrying into the living room so he could peer through the front window. Beckett followed Bianca outside and her heart sank at the sight of the two men standing on the asphalt drive. In less than twelve hours, the necromancer and his minion had found their new safe house. 

“I warned you to stop interfering in my business, Castova,” said Dresden. He held himself stiffly, as if he wasn’t quite yet over being plowed into by a car. Davis, likewise, was a bit crispy. He also looked as if he wanted to be anywhere but there, facing down the two most powerful witches that Beckett knew. 

“And I told you that I’d be waiting when you came for me,” Bianca replied. There was no hint of fear or hesitation in the older woman, a feat that amazed the detective. Beckett was certainly feeling a bit out of her league and she knew that Bianca had felt underpowered enough to seek the assistance of her useless Council. In fact, the Council was currently proving just how useless it really was. Where were the witches who had agreed to help them should this very situation arise?

“This is your last chance, bitch. Walk away while you can still walk and I will forget you ever interfered with my dealings.” Dresden had his ‘scary face’ turned all the way up to petrifying and Beckett could feel the charm against her sternum heat up as it worked to protect her from the effect of the bad guy’s visage. 

“You’re too late, anyway,” said Randy. He didn’t sound as confident as Bianca and his hand trembled slightly as he gripped Beckett’s arm just below her elbow. She startled at the shock she received from the touch and turned an inquisitive look on Randy. He ignored her as he stepped forward, trying to mask his unease with his actions. “They’re already big again.”

“Don’t lie to me, fool,” spat the necromancer. “I can sense their little auras and I know they’re still children.”

“It’s only a matter of time,” argued Randy. “And I won’t let you pass until it’s complete.” Beckett really hoped that the necromancer didn’t call the doctor’s bluff. Not that she truly expected him to just turn around and leave, either. She hated to even blink, lest he make a move on her partners in that time and she miss it. Unfortunately, her reflexes won over her self-control. When her eyes snapped open again, she nearly stumbled backwards at the change in her vision. Randy hadn’t just shocked her when he’d touched her arm, he’d given her the ability to see what the witches, and by extension her little boys, could see every day. Dresden’s face was the same, but now she could also see the skeletal quality of Davis’ spirit. Each of the bad guys were standing in spheres of iridescent light, similar to what Beckett had seen very briefly in the video camera when they discovered the wards in Southampton. 

She turned curiously towards her companions. Bianca and Randy were also in protective bubbles. The younger witch didn’t look much different and Beckett vaguely remembered Javier saying as much when they were first learning about the magical side effect of the retrogression. Bianca, on the other hand, now much more closely resembled her one hundred and forty years. Despite the deeper wrinkles and thin, snow white hair, the older woman was still comely and Beckett could see why her partners had stared so curiously at Bianca during their first introduction. 

Beyond the dark witches, at the end of the drive, Beckett could see the cottage’s wards. The thin, translucent wall was probably what had tipped off Bianca that their nemesis had arrived. Apart from the humans, she could see faint glimmers of gold around all of the living things in the yard. The overlapping auras made the world much brighter. She lifted her own hand to inspect it and found the same golden hue outlining her fingers.

Randy also glowed with the soft yellow light, but Bianca’s was pure white and the necromancer’s was black. The longer she looked, she realized that his aura wasn’t simply a black glow - it gave off no light at all and sucked in whatever photons were unlucky enough to get close to his form. Davis at least still had a light of his own, though it was tainted with red. 

Her brief exploration of her new second sight was cut short when her attention snapped back to the on-going altercation around her. The necromancer now stood a step closer to the porch while his lackey hovered behind him. Were this an interrogation, Beckett would have easily identified Davis as the easier man to break and focused her attention on him. Right now, Dresden was too dangerous to ignore. 

“Do not waste my time,” said Dresden to Randy. “You cannot stand against me and you know it. Your brother told me all about the way you shunned your heritage. He told me about the way you were too weak to bear the mantle your mother wove for you.”

“You’re mistaken, asshole,” said Beckett. The ability to _see_ gave her new confidence. She was sure that she could find a weak spot in the man’s armor and she didn’t need much of a hole through which to put a bullet. She’d already written Davis off. He was nothing but a spineless coward who would turn on his master just as quickly as he’d turned on his peers. “Randy was strong enough to walk away.”

“Isn’t that cute? Your little girlfriend thinks you’re strong, Bellefonte.” His sickeningly sweet voice turned sour. “She has yet to taste true power.” The way he said it made Beckett’s skin crawl and his leer made her feel naked under his gaze. Her new-found confidence rapidly started to melt and it took all of her courage to stand her ground and not back away. She reminded herself over and over that her family needed her to defend them. Her little boys depended on her to keep the monsters at bay. 

“The first chance you have to make a shot, take it,” muttered Randy so only Beckett could hear him. She nodded with more resolution than she felt. Out loud, the witch said, “You’re wasting your own time, Dresden. You’re not getting the detectives today or any day.” 

“If I do not possess them, no one will,” promised the evil witch. He brought up his hand to lob an attack spell at the house. This time, Beckett could actually see the ball of fire as it sped towards the structure. She was helpless to stop it, or Dresden’s desire to see her partners dead. 

Where Beckett was helpless, Bianca was not. The white witch deflected the attack but instead of aiming it at its origin, she sent it at Davis. The caneless man flew backwards, landing on his back in the drive and skidding a few feet. He slowly got to his feet and took his sweet time rejoining the fight. 

“Randall, get them out of here,” instructed Bianca. “I’ll deal with Dresden.”

“You can’t fight him on your own,” argued Randy. 

“Get the _boys_ out of here. Katherine can help me.”

Okay, first of all, there was no way that Kevin and Javier were leaving this place without her, and second, what in the hell was Beckett supposed to do against a witch wearing a bullet-proof shield? Beckett wasn’t able to voice her complaints at the plan, however, nor would the witches have paid her any heed. 

Bianca sent the younger witch an imploring look and he must have read something in her eyes that Beckett missed. He abandoned his argument that he should stay to help her. The doctor set his shoulders in determination and turned decidedly towards the front door. Randy’s sudden move back into the house drew the ire of the necromancer and he retaliated by sending a series of magical attacks in their direction. Bianca didn’t seem to have too much trouble blocking the blows, giving Beckett new hope that the white witch had underestimated her own abilities. The detective fixed her gaze on the villain, determined to not miss her first opportunity to subdue him. She easily endured the ache in her arms from holding her gun steady and aloft. 

Randy reappeared as quickly as he’d disappeared, now holding the keys to his GTO. “Castle is getting the kids ready. I’m going to bring the car up to the house,” he informed the two females. 

“I’m not okay with…” _you taking my kids anywhere without me_. Beckett quickly realized that still, no one was listening to her. Bianca and Randy jumped off the porch together and then split in different directions, making it difficult for the necromancer to hit them both with the full brunt of his power simultaneously. 

In order to give Randy a chance to make it down to the street and back, Bianca switched to the offensive. She threw her own bursts of white energy at the necromancer while advancing confidently. With each step forward she took, she struck again. Beckett wondered how long it would take for her to tire. She remembered her own fatigue the day before, just from passively resisting the bad man’s attacks. 

She took her eyes off the fight when she heard movement behind her. Castle had one of their boys’ hands in each of his own. He struggled to drag the younger males away from their partner. 

“Javier, stop fighting and go with Castle,” said Beckett. “I’ll follow you in a few minutes.”

“I’m not leaving you here,” insisted the Hispanic detective. Kevin managed to slip from the writer’s grasp so he could throw his arms around Beckett’s waist. He refused to let go. If anything, his hold tightened when the sound of tires squealing on drive reached them. 

Randy’s noisy return drew the necromancer’s attention away from Bianca and his spirit flared angrily when he saw the children wrapped around Beckett. He easily deduced that they were trying to move his primary targets to safety. 

“Davis, contain them,” ordered Dresden. The overdressed witch tensed at the order and made a feeble attempt to disable the car. From within the vehicle, Randy was able to extend his protective shield to encompass his beloved GTO and Davis’ spell failed. “Traitor,” hissed the necromancer at his subordinate’s lax effort. Davis bowed his head in defeat, as if resigned to suffer the wrath of Dresden along with the detectives and their allies. He was saved temporarily when Bianca dialed up her offensive even more. The shield around the GTO shrunk back down to human sized as Randy prepared to jump out in order to help Castle detach Kevin and Javier from Beckett. 

Knowing he had only a short time to prevent the doctor from making his escape with the valuable be-spelled detectives, the mad man sacrificed his own safety to throw a huge bolt of energy at the car’s chassis. Beckett felt like time had slowed to crawl as she watched the ball of dark magic explode, throwing the GTO into the air where it turned 180 degrees and landed on its hood. The sound of metal crumpling would haunt Beckett for days as the beloved car whined while it settled. 

Beckett snapped out of her stupor when Dresden shot a concentrated beam of energy at the overturned car, slicing cleanly through the gas tank and letting the smell of premium gasoline fill the air. “Randy!” The clear liquid cascaded from the hole in the tank, forming a puddle under the murdered car’s body. It very much reminded Beckett of the way a victim bled out from a gunshot wound. 

_to be continued…_

**Note:** If you want to continue to the Alternate Ending, this is your stop. Jump off here: [_The Spellbound Affair - Alternate Ending_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3582327/chapters/7898172)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.  
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art.


	64. Third Monday Late Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein awesome classic cars are ruined...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Sixty-Four

Castle swore as he struggled to come to terms with the single vehicle wreck. Even Kate looked dumbfounded as she stared unblinkingly at the upside down car. The only one whose head was still in the fight was Bianca. She took advantage of the necromancer’s split attention to rush closer and pummel the baddie with a barrage of spells from within the sphere of his shield. She succeeded in sending him flying into the trunk of a young tree, nearly snapping the innocent sapling in half. 

The writer realized that they had one chance to rescue the doctor from his wrecked car before the fumes turned into flames. With the dark and light witches focused entirely on each other, he could reach the car with less risk of getting blown to Timbuktu in the space between. First though, he had to secure his boys. 

The junior detectives were gaping at the combination of the overturned car and the broken tree. In order to face the driveway more squarely, they’d had to loosen their holds on Beckett. Castle took advantage of the opportunity to pull the kids away from his girlfriend and shove them back into the house. He pulled the front door shut. Hopefully they followed the unspoken but strongly implied command that they stay inside or it wouldn’t be the necromancer they’d have to worry about trying to kill them. 

He spared one last glance to check on the conflict between Bianca and Dresden. Bianca huffed slightly, catching her breath while the necromancer struggled to untangle himself from the mangled tree. Beckett launched herself in their direction, intent on arresting or (preferably) shooting Dresden in his smug face. He knew that fiery look in her eyes and it would be useless to try to stop her. It was up to Castle to drag the younger witch out of the GTO before it exploded. 

The car leaned towards the passenger side, meaning that the larger, less crushed window opening was next to the driver. That was a small miracle. Castle dropped to his knees and peered through the shattered window. Randy had a large gash in his forehead and he blinked to keep the blood out of his eyes from a smaller cut on his cheek. Castle sent up silent thanks that the witch was still alive for now. In ten seconds, maybe not. The smell of spilled gasoline was becoming nauseating. 

“Randy, can you hear me?”

“The seatbelt is stuck,” the doctor said through gritted teeth. “My shoulder’s wrenched and I can’t reach it with my other hand.” Well, that explained why the older man was basically dangling upside down from his seat. The top of his head nearly brushed the roof of his car, showing how much the upper part of the car had already given in. 

“Shit.” Castle tried to reach around for the jammed buckle but there wasn’t enough room in the crushed cabin. “Hold on.” He hurried around to the passenger side of the car. He disregarded the puddle of gas as he flopped down on his belly in the broken glass and tried to reach the buckle from that angle. The crushed frame prevented him from shoving his upper body into the car, meaning the seatbelt was still out of his reach. Cursing up a blue streak, he gave up and returned to the driver’s side. “Can you get it with magic?” he asked anxiously. 

“I… dizzy,” the older man admitted, pressing the palm of his hand to his forehead. Castle compared the amount of blood gathering on the roof of the car to the size of the gasoline puddle and his stomach clenched. He needed to get the man out of the car. The writer felt lightheaded himself from the fumes and he wasn’t suffering from significant blood loss. 

Crunching glass drew Castle’s attention to the front of the car and the nine-year-old that stood there in his Scooby-doo sleepwear and smelly leather sandals. “Kevin Ryan, you get your skinny little butt back into that house before I smack it so hard you can’t sit for a week!”

“You need my help,” said the boy defiantly. His little face was still pink from the long hours of pre-spell illness and the dried tears Castle had noticed when he retrieved the kids from their room. The color accented the determined glint in his eyes and the thin set of his mouth. The writer didn’t like that look one bit. 

Castle wasn’t fast enough to grab him before Kevin dropped to his hands and knees and crawled through the passenger side window. “Get out of there!” he shouted. His heart skipped a few beats when the frame of the car groaned and settled a few more inches, shrinking the size of his son’s escape route. “Kevin!”

“Give me two seconds,” the boy argued. 

“Now!” Castle reached through the hole to grab Kevin’s ankle and tug. At this point, getting dragged over the broken glass would be the least of the detective’s concerns, but Castle couldn’t stomach the thought of how poorly the thin cotton pajamas would hold up during the move. He had to get the boy to come back out on his own. But convincing Detective Ryan to leave a friend stranded in a dire situation was something the writer was ill-equipped to do. 

“Just let me try,” Kevin pleaded as he kicked the writer’s hand away. The car let out another dying shriek and Randy feebly joined Castle’s bid to talk the child back to safety. Kevin ignored them both as he pressed down the release button and tugged on the belt. 

“Kevin, I swear--” 

“I’ve got it,” the nine-year-old said triumphantly. The two halves of the contraption separated and the doctor dropped the last six inches to rest fully on the roof of his car. The motion caused the car to rock and Castle had to back away to avoid getting pinched as the passenger side fully collapsed. 

He raced back to the driver’s side and nearly skidded on the gravel and broken glass. “Randy? Randy, can you move?” he asked frantically. He wanted the doctor to live, sure, but right now the man’s body was blocking his little boy’s only way out of the death trap. The horrible smell of burning plastic joined the gasoline fumes and Castle nearly lost his last meal at the sight of the thin curls of black smoke twisting out of the air conditioning vents. 

“Let me help.” 

Castle probably lost ten years of his life at the unexpected voice. He looked up at the grim face of Saul Davis, ignoring the ache in his chest as his heart thudded against his ribcage. 

Completely defenseless against the witch and hidden from Bianca’s view, Castle tried whatever he could think of to repel the overdressed villain. “Get back! Be gone, evil spirit!” He crossed his fingers to make a crucifix and held it up in Davis’ face. The witch blinked in confusion at him. “By the power of--”

“Oh, come off of it,” snapped the witch. “You can’t exorcise me. Now move or you’ll lose both of them to a fireball.”

Castle didn’t have a better option. He brushed his hands off on his pants and then reached into the car to grasp Randy under the arm. Davis grabbed the other man’s shoulder and together they were able to pull the doctor out of the wreckage. Castle left Davis to help Randy limp into the grass side lawn while the writer renewed his admonishments for Kevin to get out of the car. This time the nine-year-old listened, crawling quickly through the window. Castle scooped him up as soon as he was clear and sprinted towards the two witches. 

“Get down!” 

Castle was already dropping to the grass with Kevin’s smaller body rolled protectively under his when he finally registered the shout. A split second later, the car exploded. The searing heat of the fireball washed over him and debris fell from the sky like metallic rain. He braced himself for a bigger impact, but fortunately none came. Once the patter of small scraps stopped hitting his back, he dared to look up and was practically blinded by the inferno that enveloped Randy’s sports car. 

“Castle? Castle, can’t breathe.” The author had momentarily forgotten about the crushing hold he had on his younger boy. He loosened his hold just enough to allow the kid’s lungs to fully expand.

“You are in so much trouble,” the older man promised, unable to take his eyes off of the burning car. Kevin grinned self-gratifyingly and snuggled into the writer’s broad chest. Castle huffed. Kevin was sorely mistaken if he thought being thirty-four again would save him from the writer’s wrath. In the meantime, Castle rested his chin heavily on the boy’s tangled blonde locks and mentally regrouped before setting out to find Javier and help for the doctor.

xXx

The edges of Beckett’s vision went red after Randy’s car was flipped with the doctor still inside. She had no idea if the witch was alive or not. Not that it mattered either way - Beckett was going to put an end to Dresden right now.

She chambered a bullet and stormed towards the place where Dresden had impacted the tree after Bianca brought him down. She towered over the man and held her gun unwaveringly, pointing it directly at the space between his eyes. “You’re under arrest, jackhole.”

Instead of pleading his case or stating his innocence, the downed witch started to laugh manically. It took all of Beckett’s will power to not silence him permanently. Her desire to do the right thing and play by the book stayed her hand, even though she could see the cracks in his shield. He was at her mercy, anyway, and a pair of handcuffs would do just as well as a lead ball at keeping him that way. 

Her mercy proved to be her undoing. Dresden surged upwards, using his unnatural speed to catch her off guard. A moment later her back impacted a neighboring tree. The rough bark of the mature oak’s trunk dug into her skin through the thin material of her wrinkled shirt. She struggled to regain the wind that had been knocked out of her. The necromancer’s putrid breath fanned over her face, bringing back the unpleasant memories of their altercation the day before. 

“Get off of me,” she growled, scratching at the fingers wrapped around her throat. Instead of letting go, Dresden tightened his hold, causing black dots to dance around the perimeter of her vision. She could sense that he was trying to use magic on her but the charmed necklace resisted him. 

“Dresden, release her!” shouted Bianca. The white witch tried to pull the horrible man off of the detective but her strength lay in her magic, not her physical body. Any spell Bianca summoned strong enough to dislodge the necromancer would probably kill Beckett. To that end, the evil man, not having the same qualms about hurting anyone close to Bianca, blasted the good witch directly in the chest with an attack that sent her rolling across the grass. 

“Bianca!” Beckett choked when Dresden tightened his hold on her throat even more. She was forced to look at him, leaving her in the dark about Bianca’s well-being. She momentarily despaired that they’d lost both of their witchy allies. She pushed the thought away forcefully. She would not give up while boiling blood still pumped through her veins. She didn’t need magic to protect her unconventional little family. 

It would help though. Beckett dug her nails into Dresden’s wrist as her sight began to waver and brought her knee up between his legs. Both her aim and force were off due to her on-going struggle to breathe. Still, he staggered a small distance away, giving Beckett the chance to draw precious air into her lungs and cough up the stench of his breath. Unfortunately, he recovered more quickly than she. She barely had time to raise her arms to protect her face when he swung at her, the blow knocking her back against the tree again. “You’ll pay for that, bitch.”

His magic surged around her again, yet could not penetrate the superficial barrier created by Bianca’s necklace. Out of patience for the interfering jewelry, Dresden grabbed the charm in his fist and his hand began to glow brightly. The metal chain instantly started to smolder and she could smell her own burning flesh. She was just about to cry out in pain when the chain snapped and Dresden threw the locket across the yard. Instantly, she could feel tendrils of magic creeping over her like an unwanted caress and she lost the ability to control her limbs. 

“What will do you do now, without your witches and charms to protect you, Detective?” He pressed the full length of his body against hers, trapping her against the tree trunk. Now that she was restrained by magic, his hands were free to wander over her torso. She couldn’t even gag as the necromancer continued his assault, hissing disgusting tidbits of his plans for her into her ear. She fought against her invisible bonds, throwing all of her might into willing her arms or legs to move as his dirty fingers slipped under her shirt to slide over the soft skin of her belly. He was in for great disappointment if he thought she’d ever submit to him in the bedroom, restraining spell or not. 

She nearly cracked a tooth clamping them together so tightly as she pushed against the magical chains. She tried to turn away from him when he brought his face in close, but his hand on her chin prevented the movement. He licked the side of her straining neck and over her cheek. “My, my, Detective. Is that salt I taste?” He chuckled maliciously before repeating the gesture. “Who’s been making you cry?” 

“Get off!” Her jawed ached as she unclenched it enough let the words through. She hadn’t really thought he would comply, but he pulled back unexpectedly with an irate snarl. He twisted around to swat at whatever had interrupted him. Beckett sucked in an anxious breath when she saw her eleven-year-old land hard on his rump in the dirt, cupping his injured cheek from where Dresden had just backhanded him. Javier glared hatefully at the necromancer and didn’t stay on the ground long. 

“Leave her alone, you sick bastard!” Javier launched himself at the older man again, trying to do as much damage as he could with his little fists. Beckett could tell that the potion running through his body, in preparation for the new spell, was slowing down his movements and weakening his punches. Just hours ago he’d barely been able to lift his head as a brutal fever raged within him. It was no surprise that Dresden could flick him away with little effort. 

But Javier wouldn’t give up. He stumbled back a few yards after Dresden’s last shove but managed to keep his feet. He had to take a few deep breaths to summon his strength. Dresden, considering himself finished with the child, turned his disgusting attention back to Beckett. She renewed her own fight against the invisible restraints, now doubly determined to rescue both herself and Javier. 

The necromancer had just managed to land his hands on her again when he jerked away with an enraged shout. The debilitating spell broke and Beckett dropped to the ground to immediately cough up a mouthful of bile. Her skin crawled with the memory of his touch and she didn’t know if a hundred scalding showers could ever wash it away. 

She could deal with that later, though. Once she finished dry-heaving, she searched out her savior. 

The necromancer continued to shout angry curses as he grabbed Javier’s upper arm and bodily threw the boy away from himself. He ripped a bloody pocket knife from his lower back while he staggered after the child. Beckett felt her blood turn to ice at the villain’s murderous visage, directed at her Hispanic partner. Her frozen nerves couldn’t transmit her desperate attempts to get to her feet and jump in front of her baby. 

However, the necromancer was unable to catch up to Javier as the cursed detective scrambled backwards, away from the mad man. Dresden suffered a spasm every few seconds and eventually dropped to the ground, frothing at the mouth. A couple of yards away, Javier blinked in surprise at the reaction he’d gotten from driving Bianca’s gift into the bad man’s kidney. 

“Katherine, are you all right?” Bianca hurried to the younger woman’s side, disregarding the dying sounds of the necromancer behind them. Well, Beckett didn’t think he was actually dying, but she could hope. At least it sounded like he was suffering. 

“I feel sick,” she said. And violated. Physically and mentally. She just wanted Castle to hold her and erase the feel of the other man’s hands on her. Maybe after she took a shower. Or Castle could hold her in the shower. They better have a lifetime supply of soap stashed in that tiny bathroom. 

“But you’re alive,” said Bianca in relief. She pushed herself off the ground, already seeking out their adversary. Beckett didn’t miss the way that Bianca’s usually fluid movements were hindered. The older woman practically dropped to her knees beside the gurgling Dresden and had to take a moment to regain her bearings. Once steadied, she retrieved a small vial from her pocket with stiff motions. 

“Beckett?” Javier knelt next to her when the white witch left, his face filled with concern. 

The need to be strong welled within her. “I’m okay, sweetheart.” Beckett reached over to take his trembling hand. She dared to look at the convulsing man and shuddered at the sight. “What’s wrong with him?”

“The knife was infused with white magic,” explained Bianca. She sprinkled the contents of her vial over the tormentor and muttered a short spell. With one final, ear-splitting scream, the man’s body convulsed and his lightless aura imploded, sucking in his skeletal spirit like a black hole. In its place was left a decayed corpse, the face twisted into a howl of agony. 

The white witch returned to Beckett’s side. “Do not look at him,” said Bianca softly as she brushed Beckett’s hair away from her face. 

“What happened?”

“When your brave little soldier stabbed him, it transferred the white magic directly into him where it reacted negatively with his dark spirit.” Bianca rubbed Javier’s back fondly and Beckett could see the faint glow as the witch imparted strength to the boy that she probably couldn’t afford to spare. She appreciated it, however. He looked worn out from his short little spat. “While dangerous, it was the most expedient way to neutralize his power.”

“Good boy, Javi,” mumbled Beckett. She absently rubbed at the thin lines of burned skin near her throat where the necklace had once rested. 

“I didn’t know it would do all that,” admitted Javi. “I was just trying to get him off of you and it was the only weapon I had.” His expression darkened from one of concern to one of hate. “But I’m glad it did. If I was full size, I’d break his stupid neck.”

“You just stay here by me,” she said. The tortured sounds of the necromancer still rang in her ears, even though they had stopped minutes ago. 

“He’s gone,” stated Bianca. “You gave me the chance to do the final spell that undid his spirit and ended his unnaturally prolonged life. Truly, you are a treasure, child.” Javier ducked his head momentarily before looking up shyly through his dark lashes at his female partner. 

“I’m just glad you’re all right, Becks.”

“You too, sweetheart.”

From across the yard, a stranger called out to the white witch. “Bianca?” Bianca, Beckett, and Javier all turned towards the incredulous newcomers. A group of four witches, vaguely recognizable from the Council, walked towards them. In the distance, the ruin of the GTO smoked but the flames were extinguished. “What happened here? We have come to help.”

“You’re a little late,” said Beckett sardonically.

xXx

Despite the fact that the witches from the Council had arrived too late to actually do something about Dresden, they were useful for cleaning up the mess in the yard. That left Bianca and Randy free to tend to their injuries and Castle to comfort his little family. Thankfully, the doctor’s prognosis was much better than Castle had originally feared. As was its wont, the gash in the witch’s forehead had gushed theatrically but little real damage had been done. Hanging upside down in the car hadn’t helped to staunch the flow, either.

By the time Castle learned the full story about the necromancer’s fitting end, the Council had already incinerated his remains and stashed the urn out of sight. The writer would have traded his fortune for the chance to confront the disgusting man who had tried force himself on Kate. Unable to find comfort in vengeance, Castle resigned himself to being thankful the assault hadn’t gone any further and working to erase the other man’s touch from his girlfriend’s memory. 

Kate was in the shower now, washing away the dirt and the sweat from the fight while the witches made final preparations for the last stage of the spell to undo the retrogression curse. Castle sat with his boys, making sure their adrenaline-fueled exploits in the mini-battle hadn’t worn them out too much. He sat on the edge of the bed, fiddling with his phone and hating Dresden with more passion than he really wanted to waste on the villain. Javier leaned against his left arm, hugging the appendage for both comfort and balance. Kevin was curled up to the right of Castle, on the verge of dozing off again. Like the original retrogression spell, the pre-spell left them achy and tired. 

A soft knock on the door heralded Randy’s entrance into the room. Thanks to the unfair healing advantage that the witches possessed, a small Band-Aid was all required now to cover the cut above his eye. Castle nodded grimly at the doctor.

“Ready?” Randy asked in a low voice. 

“You sure you’re feeling up to this?” Castle asked. He gave the witch a hard look. The writer knew that they had a finite window of time in which the final stage of the spell could be completed, but he wasn’t going to risk his friends’ well-being. 

“Yes,” said the other man confidently. “I would not risk it if I did not think I had enough strength to complete the spell.” He smirked at the author. “Are _you_ sure about this, though? They’re pretty useful at this size.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” said Castle. “When they’re big, they won’t be able to crawl through collapsing car windows anymore.”

“I would have just lifted the car up,” said Javier. At least, that’s what Castle thought he heard. The words were kind of mumbled, given the way they were spoken directly into the side of Castle’s arm. 

“I’m sure you would have,” replied Castle skeptically. He shrugged his shoulder to get the eleven-year-old to sit up straight. “You prepared for this, buddy?”

“Yeah.” Despite the confident delivery of the reply, Javier made no move to slide off the bed and join Randy in the empty third room that had been designated for the heavy spellwork.

“Just come over when you’re ready,” said Randy. He bowed out of the room to give the three friends some privacy. 

“Come here,” said Castle, holding out his arms invitingly. Javier rose up to his knees so he could wrap his arms around Castle’s neck. The writer returned the hug tightly. “Thank you for saving Kate today,” he whispered, followed by a kiss to the dark hair above Javier’s ear. 

“Always,” said the boy in an equally low voice. “Thank you for… everything.”

“My pleasure. I love you, son.” Castle blinked back the moisture gathering in his eyes and was glad the macho veteran couldn’t see the action. It turns out he wasn’t the only one feeling sentimental. He easily felt the slight hitch in Javier’s breathing. With a faint chuckle, he pressed another kiss to Javier’s temple and then pushed the younger man back so Castle could see his face. “You haven’t seen the last of me, kiddo. I’m sure that by the end of the day, you’ll be glad you can get away from me.”

Javier shrugged in response, his chin dipped down to his chest. “You’re not that bad.”

“Just wait until I pull out all of the videos I made over the past two weeks.” Castle pressed his fingers into Javier’s side, eliciting a surprised laugh from the eleven-year-old. “Okay, say ‘see ya’ to your little brother and then I’ll walk you over to the witches.” A sudden thought struck him and he pulled Javier in close again to whisper in his ear. At the end of his comment, Javier jerked away, his cheeks bright red and his eyes wide.

“What? When did you…?”

“Friday,” said Castle smugly. “Go on then, we need to get moving.” 

Castle stood up from the bed to give Javier access to Kevin. He stretched his hands over his head and grimaced as the muscles pulled in his back. He definitely needed to schedule a visit to his chiropractor. 

Javier didn’t follow Castle’s suggestion, though the tips of his little round ears stayed red as he prodded Kevin to see if the Irishman was awake. The nine-year-old blinked groggily at his partner. “You’re going?”

“Yeah. You better not wimp out on me and decide to stay small after all.”

“There’s no chance of that,” said Kevin.

Javier gazed at the younger boy for a long moment. Castle could practically hear the gears turning in his head as he tried to phrase his next statement. “Just… make it through the spell, okay? I don’t want to spend our first days as adults again in a hospital because you had to get sick.”

“I’ll be okay,” said Kevin. He smiled encouragingly at his partner. “You should take your own advice though. Just because you didn’t get the fun of a cancer scare last time doesn’t mean you’re immune.”

Javier guffawed. “Espositos don’t get cancer.” 

“Yeah right.”

Javier stuck his tongue out at the prone blond. Kevin returned the gesture and they both laughed at their own ridiculousness. Castle wished he had his video camera now. He settled for smiling widely as he watched them banter. “Okay, I’m going now,” stated Javier. He leaned down to drop the world’s shortest kiss on his partner’s cheek and then slid off the bed. 

“See ya in a few, Javi.”

“See ya in a few, Kev.”

Castle let Javier precede him through the door to the hall. He admonished Kevin to stay put until he returned and then closed the door softly behind him. He grinned down at the Hispanic boy, who looked back at him curiously. “What was that?” Castle asked.

“What?” asked the boy self-consciously. 

“You missed.”

“Castle!” The red came back full force and Javier half-heartedly punched the older man’s arm. This was a look that Castle couldn’t possibly miss capturing for all eternity. He whipped out his phone and pointed it at the eleven-year-old. He didn’t think Javier had ever looked as adorable as he did then, drowning in a man’s tee-shirt with men’s sleep pants cinched around his waist and pooling at his ankles, and his face flushed with embarrassment. Javier made a grab for the phone but the writer easily held it out of reach over his head. 

“Let’s go, Espo. Your destiny awaits.”

“You’re horrible,” complained the younger man as he slipped his hand into Castle’s. The writer smiled fondly in response to the exasperated words. He started them down the short hall to the last and smallest bedroom on the second floor. 

The bed had been pushed towards the middle of the room to allow room for chairs on either side of it. The diminutive window, now centered over the mattress, cast a square of warm yellow light onto the blanket. Bianca, seated on the near side of the bed, beckoned for the Hispanic detective to approach her. Javier hesitated, his little fingers tightening around Castle’s. 

“You’re okay,” soothed the writer, pushing their conjoined hands forward to encourage the boy to start moving. “I’m not going to leave you here alone.”

Javier took a deep breath and dropped Castle’s hand. He sat on the edge of the bed and looked nervously at Bianca. The white witch smiled in an effort to soothe him, but her mused hair and clothes detracted from her efforts. This was the first time Castle had seen the witch sport an appearance less than perfectly tailored. She looked more human currently, sure, but right now Castle was more interested in the help of a powerful, poised witch. 

At least her bearing was normal. Bianca cupped Javier’s face and stared into his chocolate-colored eyes, performing one last check to confirm he was ready for the spell. She nodded briefly to Randy, seated on the opposite side of the bed, and released Javier. “Lay down, _tesoro_. You will be more comfortable that way.” 

As the Hispanic boy struggled to find a comfortable position - having everyone watching him so closely probably wasn’t helping him relax - Randy asked if he had any questions. Javier shook his head slowly. With the practiced ease of someone long in the medical field, the doctor calmly started to describe what he thought would happen once he started the spell. His low voice gradually pushed some of the anxiety out of the room and Castle found himself feeling a bit better about all of this, too. It helped to know what to expect. Apparently, Javier didn’t feel the same. 

“This was kind of easier when the other witches just did it,” muttered Javier at the ceiling. 

“Less build up, hm?” Bianca brushed her hand over his forehead, smoothing away a few of the wrinkles. 

There was a short knock on the door, followed by Kate’s prompt entry. Her hair was twisted into a damp braid and her face was clear of makeup, allowing her natural beauty to shine. She looked relieved when she saw that they hadn’t started without her. Instead of standing next to Castle, she claimed the last chair next to Bianca and folded her hands around one of Javier’s. 

“Hey, sweetheart.”

“Hi.”

Kate’s eyes never left Javier’s as Randy placed one large palm on top of Javier’s head and clasped the boy’s free hand with his other. Bianca leaned back in her chair, content to watch until Randy indicated that he needed her. Castle waited until Javier’s body started to glow from the influx of the magic and his eyes fell closed, and then the writer silently slipped out of the room so he could check on Kevin. 

The nine-year-old was still curled up on Castle’s borrowed bed, but instead of sleeping he toyed with Javier’s ornate pocketknife. The blood from Dresden had been expertly cleaned off by one of the witches and if Castle hadn’t heard the story of the necromancer’s demise, he would have never been able to tell that it had ended someone’s life. 

“Is Javi okay?” asked Kevin in a small voice, not looking up from the weapon. 

“They’re just starting,” replied the writer. “It sounded pretty quiet downstairs. The rest of the witches must have cleared out. What do you think about some lunch and television?”

“’M not hungry,” said the Irishman.

“Not surprising.” Castle swallowed a sigh. “Come on.”

Kevin obediently climbed off the bed and together the two made their way down the creaky wooden stairs and entered the kitchen. Castle pulled together some fruit for a light snack, being mindful of the boy’s upset stomach. In the living room, Castle was just about to settle into his preferred armchair when he noticed the room’s silent occupant. Kevin immediately shied behind him, using the writer as a shield against the widow’s penetrating gaze. 

“I’m sorry, Ms. Kennedy. I didn’t realize anyone else was still here,” said the writer awkwardly. 

“The rest have gone to attend to Council matters,” the dour witch replied. “Please, sit.”

“I want to go back upstairs,” hissed Kevin, tugging on the back of Castle’s shirt. 

“Don’t be shy, Detective,” said Widow Kennedy. It almost sounded more like a command than an attempt to put the boy’s fears at ease. Castle wasn’t interested in subjecting the Irishman to any more unwanted encounters so he tried to make their excuses as politely as possible. “Before you go, I think you should know that the next person to face disciplinary action from the Council, before my husband passed away, was Wayne Jones.”

“Disciplinary action for what?” His curiosity piqued, Castle temporarily abandoned his escape plan. 

“For the same thing of which you accuse my late husband,” said Widow Kennedy bitterly. 

The M-word was on the tip of his tongue but Castle wisely gulped it down instead of spitting it out. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because when these retrogressions are undone and your investigation is finished, I hope to never have the pleasure of working with the NYPD again.” The finality of her tone clearly conveyed to Castle that she was finished with the conversation. He mentally shuddered. Apparently they hadn’t made a new ally in the widow and she wasn’t discreet with her dislike of them as a whole. Well, that was fine with Castle. He’d choose Kate over her, any day. 

It seemed pointless to excuse themselves after being summarily dismissed, so Castle gave Kevin the signal to depart. The nine-year-old eagerly darted up the stairs in front of the writer, wanting to put as much distance between himself and the angry widow as possible. Castle agreed. They closed themselves into the smaller guest room where they could share the fruit and wait for news on Javier. 

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.   
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art.


	65. Third Monday Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the curse is broken...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Sixty-Five

Beckett couldn’t hear anything through the thin wood of the door to the room she was sharing with Castle. Still, she knew that the other half of her family was inside. She slipped silently into the room, though she didn’t need to bother with being quiet. On the other side of the door, Castle was sprawled out on his back, mouth hanging wide open as he snored softly. Tucked up next to him was Kevin, also fast asleep. Beckett grinned to herself and leaned down to shake her boyfriend awake. 

Castle sat up quickly, nearly bumping heads with her. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

“It’s perfectly fine,” said Beckett. Her smile widened. 

“Javi?”

“That’s Detective Esposito to you,” she teased, punctuating her statement with a peck to the writer’s lips. 

“So it’s over? He’s big again?”

“Yes. Randy was able to bring him all the way back to thirty-six. He’s sleeping off the transformation right now.”

“And there were no complications? No damaging effects from growing so quickly?”

“We won’t know for certain until he wakes up and tells us how he feels, but there was nothing obvious wrong with him. Randy wants both of them to get a full physical from their primary doctors, to catch problems like Kevin’s anemia.”

“That’s a good idea,” agreed the writer. He yawned widely and stretched. “What time is it?”

“Nearly two,” she answered. 

“Wow, it took that long? It only took seconds for them to shrink down to babies.”

“Well, Randy was trying to be careful with him,” said Beckett with a laugh. “He plans on going even slower with this little guy.” She leaned over Castle so she could brush Kevin’s hair away from his face. “Think there’s any chance of still talking him out of it?”

“Doubtful, especially if Javi’s transformation went as smoothly as it sounds like it did. When do they want to undo the curse on Kevin?”

“As soon as we wake him up.” She tried to keep her emotions light even as her earlier apprehension crept back over her. She tried to tell herself that Javier had made it through the change without any hiccups, so Kevin would surely be okay, too. It didn’t help. 

In the end, it was Kevin’s choice and she had to accept that, even if she didn’t like it. 

Castle nudged the nine-year-old until he uncurled from his tight ball. “You ready to be slightly less short, squirt?”

Kevin frowned at the writer’s teasing. “Just because you’re freakishly tall doesn’t mean I’m short.”

“Well, everything in this world is relative and compared to me…” Castle trailed off, not having to give voice to the implied end of his statement. Kevin decided to abandon the debate and turned to his partner instead. 

“Where’s Javi?”

“He’s resting,” said Beckett. “He’s back to normal, though. Everything went according to plan. And now it’s your turn.” She was glad he didn’t seem to notice the difficultly she had uttering the end of her sentence. 

“We should get you changed into your big boy clothes,” said Castle. “You need help?”

“I got it,” said the boy. He gave Castle an affronted look.

“Well, what are you waiting for, then?” 

Kevin climbed off the bed and collected the men’s sleepwear he would wear during the transformation. He headed across the room to change in the relative privacy of the shadowed corner next to the dresser. 

Beckett sat next to her boyfriend and leaned fully into his embrace when he slipped his arms around her. In the calm moment before her next trial, the compounding emotions of the past couple of days surged within her. Her frustration with the witches, her disgust at the way Dresden had touched her, her relief that Javier had come through the transformation without trouble, and her fear that Kevin would not; they all layered on top of each other. It took every ounce of her will power to fight them back down and keep her breathing even and tear ducts dry. _A few more hours and it will be over. Just a little longer._

“What’s wrong, Beckett?” asked Kevin when he rejoined them. He leaned against her legs and looked up at her inquisitively. 

“Nothing,” she lied. “Are you sure you want to do this?” She traced the bridge of his nose with the pad of her thumb, committing the features of his cherubic face to memory.

“I’m sure,” he replied softly, yet resolutely. She did her best to smile convincingly in return.

“Okay then.” She and Castle stood up together. The writer held out his hand to the nine-year-old. While he was doing a better job hiding his feelings about the upcoming spellwork, she could see the concerned lines etched into his face. Beckett sighed and resolved to focus on more positive sentiments. 

If Javier had looked cute in his oversized clothes, Kevin definitely did. They’d have to watch him in case he tripped on the way to the other room. Castle kept a firm hold on the boy’s hand as they traversed the hall. On the writer’s other side, Beckett pressed against his side, her arm wrapped around his waist. 

The smallest bedroom hadn’t changed much since she’d left. After Javier’s transformation was complete, she and Randy had helped him limp back to the middle bedroom, where he’d immediately crashed on one of the twin beds. Beckett had watched him sleep, taking in the familiar yet vaguely forgotten features of her junior partner. She was amazed at how quickly she’d come to associating the eleven-year-old with her partner, instead of the grown man. She was very glad to have Esposito back, though she already missed little Javier. She’d had to force herself away from his side in order to collect Castle and Kevin.

And now here she was again, preparing to endure the long and nerve-wracking passage of twenty-five years in the space of mere hours. Watching Javier return to adulthood had been much different than seeing him shrink down to a six-year-old. The retrogression had taken seconds and been shrouded in a bright light. Randy had slowly brought Javier through the years, giving Beckett the surreal opportunity to witness her partner grow from a skinny eleven-year-old to an awkward thirteen-year-old, a gangly sixteen-year-old, a scrappy twenty-two-year-old, and finally start to fill out in his mid-to-late twenties as his military and police training packed on muscles and maturity. 

Beckett chewed on her nail while she watched Castle help Kevin get situated on the bed, on top of fresh sheets and a fluffed pillow. Randy triple-checked the boy’s magical tolerance and physical well-being before nodding affirmatively at Bianca. Beckett knew that if she got too close - if she leaned down to kiss her baby boy one last time - it would feel too much like good-bye and she wouldn’t be able to resist scooping him up and running, unable to bear the fear that this upsizing would go so much worse than the last.

Her stomach hurt and she felt on the verge of shaking as Randy and Bianca each took one of Kevin’s tiny hands and the doctor launched into his summary of what to expect during the transformation. Castle sought her out, surely wondering why she hadn’t joined them. Once he registered her tragic expression, he moved from the side of the bed to envelop her in a bear hug. “I can’t… I can’t watch,” she whispered. “What if…”

“He’s going to be fine,” promised Castle. She knew the words were for her benefit and not necessarily Castle’s actual feelings, though he certainly sounded more optimistic than she felt. “You know Ryan, Kate. He’s a fighter and a survivor and this isn’t going to defeat him.”

“Katherine, you should go sit with Javier,” said Bianca. She moved to stand next to the couple and stroked the younger woman’s hair. “I’ll come get you when we’re finished.”

“But I--” She felt horrible about abandoning her younger partner after sitting through the transformation with Javier. No matter how terrified she felt, she couldn’t leave Kevin to face this alone. Even if it meant she would have a front row seat to his ultimate demise, she had to be there for the Irishman. 

“None of us will be able to focus if you cannot reign in your emotions,” said Bianca. She brushed the pad of her thumb over Beckett’s cheek, smearing a few renegade tears. The lead detective didn’t think she’d cried this much since her mother was murdered. “All will be fine. Find your composure with Javier and return when you’re more in control.”

“I’ll stay with him, Kate,” promised Castle. “He won’t be alone and, this way, neither will Javi.”

Feeling like the worst kind of friend, Beckett gave in to their advice and agreed to retire to the other room. On the double bed, little Kevin sobbed in empathy, no doubt blaming himself for her anguish. If she was going to give in to her horrible need to distance herself from this mess, the least she could do was say farewell. She slipped out of Castle’s hold and strode determinedly towards the bed where she leaned down to take Kevin’s face in her hands and land a half-dozen kisses on his forehead and salt-crusted cheeks. 

“I love you, baby boy,” she repeated between each kiss. Her strength crumbled with every utterance until Bianca finally pulled her away and Castle took her place. The writer lifted the nine-year-old off of the bed and rocked him soothingly. Beckett strained her ears to hear the untitled tune that her boyfriend hummed deep in his chest as he transitioned to pacing. Bianca guided the detective out of the room and all of the way into the next one. The older woman kept a comforting hand on Beckett’s elbow as she leaned down to shake Esposito’s shoulder. The Hispanic detective came to slowly, blinking back fatigue and discomfort as he tried to get his bearings. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked in a rough voice, zeroing in on Beckett’s distress. 

“Your friend is about to start his transformation and Katherine is not handling it well,” explained Bianca. 

“Kevin?”

“He’s fine. Katherine, however, is distracting us and needs to calm down.”

“Okay,” replied Esposito sleepily. Bianca pushed the younger woman towards the narrow bed and Beckett sat heavily on the edge of the mattress. Esposito reached over to pull her down, his strong arms easily maneuvering her into the curve of his body. She pressed her face against his firm chest and let her fear be washed away in a torrent of tears. She forgot that just hours before, their positions had been reversed and it was she who held him so tightly. This was Esposito, the strong, loyal, smart-aleck veteran who’d been by her side the longest, before either Castle or Ryan had blessed her life. He’d always protected her and while she’d enjoyed him as a child, this is how she preferred him.

xXx

Beckett was still cradled in Esposito’s impenetrable embrace when Bianca returned. Her head pounded and she pressed her palm to her forehead as she sat up. Bianca placed her hand over the detective’s and the cool wash of her magic eased the ache. Beckett supposed that the white witch wasn’t really that bad and would be pretty useful when the detective’s workload brought about the irritating migraines.

Behind her, Esposito yawned and rubbed at the scruff covering his jaw. “The next time you want to cuddle, we need a bigger bed,” he complained. 

“Shut up,” she replied affectionately. “Let’s go see how your partner fared.” She cast a nervous, hopeful look towards the witch. Bianca dipped her head and smiled softly, lifting Beckett’s spirits much higher. Together, the two homicide detectives followed the witch back to the smallest room. Beckett wisely refrained from making any motherly gestures towards Esposito once she observed how carefully he concentrated on walking steadily across the wood floorboards. Even so, she kept a close eye on him until they were crossing the threshold into the spare bedroom. 

Castle looked up and grinned widely at the pair when they entered. Beckett spared half of a thought for Randy’s whereabouts and then focused completely on her boyfriend and partner. Castle was seated at the head of the bed, resting against a couple of decorative pillows and the headboard. On his stomach next to the writer was Kevin - make that Detective Ryan - sleeping off the transformation. His light brown hair was matted to his temples and forehead, likely a result of the Castle’s steady petting of the younger male.

“He’s okay?” asked Beckett cautiously as she knelt down next to the bed to get a closer look at the Irishman’s face. 

“I think so,” said Castle. “Randy and Bianca don’t seem concerned and he’s breathing, which is just fine with me.”

Beckett interrupted Castle’s administrations so she could card her own fingers through Ryan’s cropped hair. He didn’t react to the touch, though she could see the consistent rise and fall of his shoulders and feel his steady pulse when she brushed her fingers under his jaw. Like Esposito, he sported a dusting of scruff that would soon require the attention of a razor. 

Esposito sat down stiffly on the edge of the bed so he could see for himself how his best friend fared. His jerky, robotic-like movements caught Castle’s attention, just like they had Beckett’s. 

“How are you feeling, Espo?” asked Castle.

“Like I just finished my first day of boot camp,” replied the veteran. “It feels so good to be back in my own body again, though.”

“Well, technically--”

“Not now,” interrupted the younger man, rolling his eyes. “Aren’t you tired of baby-sitting by now?”

Castle pouted for a few seconds. “Fine, be that way. I need to go to the bathroom, anyway, and we should give the two lovebirds their privacy.”

“Castle! We’re not… you know what, never mind.” It wasn’t worth arguing with the writer when he was in the mood to kid. Despite the blatant proof before him that Esposito was no longer a child, Castle seemed to think he could still tease the detective without fear of repercussions. He was lucky that Esposito was feeling a bit under the weather from the change. 

The two detectives helped steady their partner as the writer climbed over him and off of the bed, making a beeline for the restroom. Beckett frowned when Ryan hardly responded to the jostling. Any other day, it would have certainly woke him up. She shrugged the thought away and followed Castle out of the room. Ryan was fine.

xXx

While Ryan slept off his transformation, the rest of his team prepared to return to the loft. With the necromancer dead, Davis and Bellefonte One each incarcerated in one way or another, and the boys big again, Castle found himself looking forward to a quiet evening free of magic and mayhem. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to spend the time alone with Kate - those moments would come once he was confident that the junior detectives were well and truly returned to normal - but he looked forward to the peace, nonetheless.

He and Kate agreed to withhold the good news for now, not even informing Lanie that her ex-boyfriend once more broke the five-foot mark. The writer supposed that things weren’t truly back to the way they had been before discovering Valduerez’ body in an alley. How could he expect them to be? The past two weeks, as unbelievable as they had been, _happened_ , and one could not simply pretend that the evolution of their various relationships would rewind to pre-curse statuses. Castle had been the father of two little boys and he still felt paternal towards the younger men. Blossoming into womanhood and going away to college hadn’t erased his fatherly affection for Alexis, so why should he expect to feel any differently about his grown sons? 

He was curious to know if Esposito and Ryan felt the same. The writer hadn’t had a chance to speak with Esposito in private yet, and if he had, how was he supposed to broach the topic? Even working alongside the detective as they collected their scattered belongings and filled the trunk of the Mercedes had Castle feeling conflicted. He knew that grown-up Esposito was fiercely independent and reluctant to show any kind of weakness, so the writer held back from insisting that the younger man take a break when he started to look fatigued and his movements became even stiffer. On the other hand, little Javier had soaked up every ounce of affection from the older man and Castle wondered if Esposito still yearned for that kind of attention. Being an adult didn’t mean you stopped needing your parents or wanting their concern. 

Kate didn’t seem to have the same issues, though Castle realized that her relationship with Esposito had always been special and exclusive. He doubted that even Ryan was privy to the depth of the two older detectives’ affection for each other. The difference was, Castle concluded, that Kate’s and Javier’s brother-sister relationship wasn’t that far removed from their temporary mother-son one. Kate had always been in a nurturing and protective role with the younger males, though she hid it well behind her professional mask. 

After the Mercedes was packed, the three of them shared a late, quiet dinner in the borrowed kitchen. Castle’s uncharacteristic silence drew the attention of his companions who were used to him taking center-stage in all things. “What’s up…?” Esposito trailed off and cleared his throat awkwardly, as if the familiar moniker usually attributed to his male friends no longer applied to the older man. Kate seemed oblivious, not even noticing that Castle was no longer Esposito’s “bro”.

“You okay, Rick?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” And he was. Because if Esposito didn’t know how to address Castle anymore, it meant that the progress made in their relationship hadn’t been undone during his return to adulthood. Awkwardness be damned, Castle made a mental note to bring the subject up with both of his boys in the near future. For now, a change in topic was necessary. “Just thinking that we should probably start heading back before too long.”

Kate looked up towards the ceiling and a second later, Esposito mimicked her move. “Shouldn’t he be up by now?” asked the lead detective. “Espo didn’t sleep for this long.”

“Well, Ryan’s always been a reluctant riser,” said Esposito. “You just don’t get to hear him gripe about your ridiculous wake-up calls like I do.”

Kate gave Esposito a bored look before turning back to Castle. “Rick?”

“One of your witchy friends would be better to ask than me,” he replied. He checked his watch. “It is past time for his medication. Do you think he should still be on the steroids, now that he’s big?”

“Either way, the dose will probably change,” said Kate. “Both of you need to see a doctor and get cleared before returning to work,” she directed at Esposito. “And Lanie doesn’t count.”

Esposito rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. “Let’s go wake up Sleeping Beauty so we can blow this joint.”

The trio quickly cleaned up their mess from dinner and then climbed the stairs with Kate in the front of their little train. She pushed open the door to the smallest room and headed straight for the double bed and its unmoving occupant. For a split second, Castle’s overactive imagination got the better of him and he equated the Irishman’s pale countenance and eerie stillness with the most permanent kind of sleep. He held his hand under Ryan’s nose and calmed when he felt the ghost of warm air over the digits. 

“Ryan?” Kate prodded her partner’s shoulder. “Come on, Ry, it’s time to wake up.”

“What the hell?” asked Esposito when the Irishman didn’t react at all to the prodding. He joined Kate in trying to roust the youngest detective. “Castle?”

Again with the assumption that he’d turned into some kind of medical genius in the last couple hours. “I’m going to get Randy,” he said in response. He probably sounded like a herd of elephants as he stomped down the stairs in search of the witches. The last he’d seen them, they’d been outside, talking shop with their other witchy friends. 

“Randy, there’s something wrong with Ryan,” said the writer breathlessly when he finally found the group of witches. Castle ignored the annoyed looks he received for busting rudely into their conversation. 

“He’s just sleeping off the last of the spell, dear,” said Bianca.

“No,” said Castle. “He won’t wake up, and it’s been hours.”

“I’ll check on him,” offered the doctor. “I’ll return shortly,” he promised the witches. Castle didn’t care if the other man thought he was just humoring the anxious group of investigators, as long as he figured out how to wake up the Irishman. 

Castle hurried back upstairs, hoping that he’d rush into the room and find his unconventional family laughing about how they’d overreacted. He did burst through the door dramatically, causing Esposito to jump about a foot in the air and Kate to shoot him a scathing look. However, Ryan’s clear blue eyes were still shuttered behind his pale lids. 

Randy walked around to the far side of the bed where he leaned over the bed and checked Ryan’s vitals. “His heart rate and breathing are normal,” said the doctor. He rested his palm on Ryan’s smooth forehead where it started to glow faintly. Castle’s throat tightened when the witch’s expression grew concerned. 

“What’s wrong with him?” demanded Esposito, likewise interpreting the doctor’s frown as bad news. Kate’s grip on Castle’s arm was going to leave bruises.

Instead of answering, Randy started handing out orders. “Detective Beckett, find the decanter of _magia firmitas_ and bring up a clean glass.” Kate complied instantly, darting swiftly out the door. “Castle, help me sit him up.” The writer nudged Esposito to the foot of the bed so he could slide his arm under Ryan’s shoulders and pull the Irishman into a slouched lean against his chest. Randy helped steady the detective’s limp form until Castle had a secure hold on him. 

“What the hell did you do to him?” Esposito snapped. “Why is he in some fucking magical coma?”

“Language,” reprimanded Castle without thinking. To his immense surprise, Esposito actually shut his mouth and settled for glowering at the witch. 

“The effects of the _magia firmitas_ wore off during the spell,” said the doctor simply, unfazed by Esposito’s ire. 

“What does that mean?” asked Castle. He really hoped it wasn’t as bad as what he was imagining. 

“It means we need to superficially boost his magical tolerance again,” said the doctor. Castle understood that the witch was trying not to scare them. Randy hoped to accomplish that by refraining from listing off possible repercussions of the huge influx of magic into Ryan’s compromised system, just like the doctor in Vermont had danced around the possibility of the detective having leukemia. What both medical professionals failed to understand was that their reticence wasn’t helping to calm the writer’s terrifying imagination.

Kate returned then, holding the glass bottle of pink liquid in one hand and a water glass in the other. Randy poured out a larger amount than he’d given the youngest detective the night before and handed both the glass and decanter back to Kate. “After I wake him up, help him drink the supplement.”

“How are you going to--” Castle was answered by the jolt of magic that surged through Ryan’s lax form and shocked the writer where the Irishman leaned against him. Ryan started coughing as he came out of his unnatural repose and Castle had to wrap his arms fully around the shorter male to keep him upright. Randy gestured for Kate to give the potion to her partner while he wrapped the fingers of one hand around Ryan’s left wrist and placed his other hand on Ryan’s knee. 

Kate cooed at her younger partner when he turned up his nose at the overly sweet concoction and though her words were enticing, her hand shook with worry. Nonetheless, Ryan wanted nothing to do with the witchy brew and Kate looked helplessly at her boyfriend. 

“You have to make him drink it,” said Randy.

“Can’t you see she’s trying?” said Esposito angrily.

“You just have to find a way to get it in his mouth,” said Castle encouragingly. “He’ll swallow it.” The unfortunate way Ryan slouched against Castle made it impossible to tilt his head back far enough to pour the potion into his mouth, as did Ryan’s weak struggling against the unwanted attention. 

Kate’s brow furrowed in determination and she considered the shot-sized amount of potion in the glass for a second. Without consulting the rest of the group about her plan, she raised the cup to her own mouth and threw back the entire content. Castle was still trying to comprehend the unexpected move when Kate leaned forward and sealed her lips over Ryan’s, pushing the liquid into his mouth by way of a certainly tongue-filled kiss. Castle was sure that his jaw-dropped expression mirrored Esposito’s perfectly. He was still gaping stupidly when Kate pulled back and Ryan’s nose wrinkled unhappily at the taste of the concoction. 

“Well, that worked,” said Randy humorously as he started his task of drawing the antidote more quickly through the detective’s system. Ryan shuddered at the burn of magic and his low sounds of discomfort were enough to break Castle out of his incredulity for the time being. Kate and Esposito crowded around, trying to help the writer verbally soothe their colleague. When Randy finally pulled back, Ryan emitted one last soft groan before slipping back into unconsciousness. 

“Hey,” said Castle, “Why did he go back to sleep?” He couldn’t get a clear view of Ryan’s face from his angle, though he strained his neck as far as he could to try. 

“He needs to concentrate all of his energy on healing,” said Randy. “He’s fine, though.” He demonstrated his point by lightly pinching Ryan’s shoulder through the thin sleeve of his t-shirt. The Irishman reacted subconsciously with an annoyed huff and brief frown. “Let him sleep for a bit and I’ll check on him again.” The doctor left the quartet alone in the room.

Esposito helped Castle maneuver Ryan back into a prone position before both alert males turned to stare at Kate. “What?” she asked.

“That was the best plan you had?” asked the writer.

“It worked,” said Kate unrepentantly. “I didn’t hear either of you coming up with a better idea.”

“You could have at least let Esposito do the honors,” whined Castle. 

“Castle, I swear to--”

“Leave him alone, Rick,” scolded Kate, cutting off her partner’s threat. She softened the reprimand with a chaste kiss. 

“That’s it? Even Ryan got tongue and you’re not madly in love with him.” Kate burst out laughing to the backdrop of Esposito’s groans about needing eye-bleach. She made up for the slight by leaning in close and thoroughly plundering her boyfriend’s mouth.

When they separated to breathe, Castle made an exaggerated look of distance. “Ryan’s right, that stuff is kind of gross.” Kate dropped her forehead to his chest and giggled into his shirt. 

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of me finally finishing the longest bit of fiction I’ve ever written, here’s the next chapter. _The Spellbound Affair_ is officially going to be 67 chapters long, though chapters 66 and 67 could easily have been broken up into about three chapters each. :-) Now that we’re close to the end, I want to make sure I let everyone know how much I appreciate the reviews, the follows, and the favorites. I honestly don’t know if I would have finished this without all of the wonderful support I’ve gotten. 
> 
> Okay, enough blathering from me. It’s not over yet for you guys. :-)
> 
> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading, especially when I bombard her with forty pages at a time.   
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art!


	66. Third Tuesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the boys adjust to being adults again...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Sixty-Six

Beckett stretched languidly over the silky sheets of Castle’s king-size bed and smiled contentedly to herself after the first night of good sleep in far too long. She stuck her tongue out at Castle’s alarm clock which was still ten minutes shy of waking her for work. She actually found herself eager to return to the Twelfth Precinct, armed with new information on the Valduerez case and the knowledge that her junior partners would be returning shortly. Surely the homicide department of the Twelfth was in shambles after the three-week loss of their elite team of detectives. Well, Beckett would see to it that things were running like a well-oiled machine again in no time. 

The only thing wrong with this bright, sunny morning was the empty half of the bed where her gorgeous, deliciously talented lover was supposed to be sleeping. Anxious to spend the extra ten minutes she had with the missing writer, Beckett slipped out of bed and donned her slippers before exiting the loft’s master bedroom. 

She could hear voices in the living room and grinned at the snippets of Castle’s argument with Esposito which reached her through the writer’s office. She turned the corner to find all three of her boys up, though each still sported his preferred sleepwear. Castle sat in the middle of the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table as he leaned back and frowned at Esposito. The detective was sitting forward in the armchair he’d claimed, pointing a threatening finger at Beckett’s lover. Ryan mimicked Castle’s position, his shoulder practically touching the writer’s, and merely grinned in amusement at the on-going, heated discussion. 

“Good morning, guys,” she said cheerily, cutting through Esposito’s attempt to quell the writer with tone rather than logic. She leaned down to drop a kiss on Esposito’s cheek before settling on the couch next to Castle. “You’re having a pajama party and didn’t invite me?”

“You’re always invited, beautiful,” said Castle, accepting her morning kiss. 

“Good, because I’m hungry,” she said, eying the bowl of steaming oatmeal that Ryan held. The kitchen was so far away and Castle was warm against her side. Surely her baby boy wouldn’t mind sharing.

“Nuh uh,” denied Castle, intercepting her attempt to steal the bowl. “He’s actually eating that and you’re not allowed to interfere with his returned appetite.”

“But I’m starving, Rick,” she pouted, nuzzling against the side of his neck. She let out an inelegant snort when out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of Esposito covering his eyes with his hand and flopping back in his chair. 

“There’s more on the stove,” offered the Irishman before shoving another spoonful into his own mouth. 

Beckett leaned around Castle to regard her partner appraisingly. She mulled over the idea of trying to goad him into getting up and making her a bowl before abandoning it and resigning herself to making the long march to the kitchen. Despite his newfound appetite and happy disposition, he still looked a bit pale and the faint bruising under his eyes betrayed the less than restful night he’d endured. 

Beckett groaned exaggeratedly as she unfolded from her comfortable seat and plodded towards the kitchen. She mused over Ryan’s state while scooping a healthy serving of oatmeal into her ceramic bowl and drowning it in milk. She pulled a spoon out of the drawer and popped it into her mouth for safe-keeping as she retrieved the brown sugar from a different cabinet. 

The night before, they’d waited an hour after administering the magical antidote to the youngest detective to check on his magical tolerance. Thankfully, Ryan had awoken with little prodding required and Randy was happy with the detective’s response to the potion. Castle and Beckett had agreed to take advantage of the Irishman’s consciousness to drag him downstairs so they could hit the road. During the drive back to SoHo, Ryan had dozed fitfully in the backseat of the Mercedes. It appeared that his sleep back at the loft hadn’t been much better. 

Beckett finished mixing a perfect bowl of oatmeal. She started on a mug of coffee to accompany the hot cereal, though she had to pause when a short pang of nausea assaulted her. She swallowed it down and wrote it off to lingering nerves, probably due to excitement at having her team back soon. 

She settled in next to Castle again and tucked into her meal. Her grumbling belly would definitely approve of the sweet oatmeal currently making her taste buds sing. Castle wrapped an arm around her shoulders, though he didn’t take his eyes off of Esposito. 

“I’m not saying that you need me to hold your hand at the doctor’s office,” continued the writer. “All I’m saying is that I invested a lot of energy these past few weeks in keeping the two of you alive and I want to be there when the doctor gives you a clean bill of health. Or in this one’s case, hear what new cocktail of drugs I have to prepare twice a day.” Castle bumped Ryan’s shoulder. The Irishman rolled his eyes. 

“You don’t have to pretend anymore, Castle,” said Esposito with a sigh of exasperation. 

“I’m not pretending anything,” argued the writer. “So just humor me, for old time’s sake.”

“I don’t think yesterday counts as ‘old time’,” muttered Esposito. “Kev, you’re fine with Castle mother-henning us still?”

“I didn’t have to make my own breakfast this morning,” replied the younger detective smugly. 

Castle grinned triumphantly at Esposito, who looked heavenwards briefly and slouched, defeated, in his chair. Beckett chuckled quietly. “So when is your trip into the medical jungle?”

“Esposito could get in at nine but Ryan’s doctor wasn’t available until eleven,” said Castle. “I figured that while we’re out and about, it would be a good time to get the boys’ apartments fumigated.”

“If Ryan’s is anything like Espo’s…” Beckett trailed off suggestively and smiled winningly at her Hispanic partner. She deposited her spoon in the empty bowl and rose once more to trek into the kitchen. A glance at the clock above the stove warned her that she’s spent a little too much time with her family and she needed to pick up the pace in order to make it to the precinct on time. 

By the time she finished showering and drying her hair, Beckett’s stomachache had faded. She had worried briefly that she might be coming down with another twenty-four hour bug, so the disappearance of the nausea was a relief. She collected her badge and her gun and reveled in the feel of normalcy that the solid weight at her hip gave her. On her way out the door, she elicited a promise from Castle to call her as soon as the appointments were over.

xXx

Beckett’s morning flew by as she caught up with paperwork, emails, and the thinly veiled inquiries into her health and the state of her partners. She answered her concerned colleagues’ questions evasively, unsure of how to explain what illness had taken hold of her partners and kept them out for so long. Fortunately, most of the other officers were easily deflected by newly assigned tasks and succinct assurances that her favorite detectives were doing better every day.

Lanie came up to meet Beckett for lunch and it pained the detective to hide the good news from her best friend. She endured, however, looking forward to seeing the look on the ME’s face when she saw for herself that Ryan and Esposito were adults again. She imagined that the joyful occasion would take place tomorrow at the morgue, so it surprised her when a hush fell over the bullpen as the ladies were finishing their takeout. Beckett spun her seat around so she could face the elevator and immediately identified the cause of the drawn-out pause from the rest of the floor. 

“Javi!” Lanie dropped her fork in the remains of her salad and ran across the worn wood floor to throw her arms around the veteran’s neck. Javier returned the hug and kissed her soundly. Beckett imagined that his golden aura was extra bright as he soaked in her excitement. “Kevin, thank goodness,” the ME said, drawing the Irishman into a crushing hug next. Her gaze alternated between the two detectives as she grinned widely until her thoughts caught up with her and she turned incredulously towards her best friend. 

“Kate Beckett, how could you not tell me?!”

Beckett just smiled in response. Her cheeks ached from the prolonged expression but the detective couldn’t stop beaming as the rest of the staff crowded around to greet the wayward detectives. Castle somehow managed to slip away from the throng near the elevator, leaving the boys to the mercy of their peers. He settled into his chair with a tired sigh, though he too was having a difficult time tempering his happiness. 

“So, what’s the damage?” asked Beckett in a low voice, leaning towards her boyfriend. 

“It could be worse,” replied Castle. He pulled a thin sheath of papers from his jacket pocket and handed it to the detective. “It could be better, too. His blood counts are low again, almost to Vermont levels. That’s the worst of it, though there are other signs of stress to his body from growing too rapidly. Randy did a good job with him, but I’d still like to keep him at the loft at least one more night.” Beckett nodded in understanding and skimmed the new list of prescriptions for her younger partner. “However, his doctor does want to know what kind of trauma his patient’s horrible boss is subjecting him to that caused such damage to his bone marrow.”

“Very funny,” said Beckett, scrunching up her nose at Castle. “And Espo?”

“He suffers from the same growing pains and a severe case of Tourette Syndrome, but other than that, he’ll live.” 

“If you didn’t tease him so much…” said Beckett as she shook her head. Since everyone was still mashed into the small space next to the elevator, she leaned forward for a covert kiss. 

“What is going on in here?!” demanded the irate voice of their captain. Beckett jumped back from Castle, but Gates’ attention was on the displaced precinct, not the illicit lovers. The crowd parted as the officers and staff tried to blend together so no one was singled out to face the captain’s wrath. That left Ryan and Esposito standing awkwardly at the back of the bullpen. Gates’ jaw dropped at the sight of them and the whole department let out a collective sigh of relief when her expression morphed into one of delight. “You’re back,” she said, the double-meaning of her words lost on most of the on-lookers.

“Yes, sir,” replied Esposito, finally moving forward into the main part of the bullpen. Ryan and Lanie followed him. 

“I’d like to see you in my office,” she said, trying to put her tough persona back into place but failing gloriously. “Both of you.”

Beckett winked at her partners as they passed her desk. Esposito gave her a bored look to indicate that he wasn’t intimidated by the captain and fully intended to prove that he was no longer the adorable eleven-year-old with whom Gates was so enamored. 

Lanie stopped at Beckett’s desk to continue scolding her friend for not calling her the instant that the boys were returned to adults. Once she’d satisfied her need to vent, the ME had demanded to hear the story of the transformation. The account wasn’t exactly work-appropriate, given the sheer number of witches involved, but Beckett told her the edited version and promised the unabridged tale later. Castle did his best to placate the dark-haired woman by letting her flip through the photographs of the cursed detectives on his phone until she had to return to the morgue. 

Beckett wished she could hear the conversation in the captain’s office. It lasted about fifteen minutes and then the junior detectives were released. The pair retired to their desks but made no move to turn on the computers or open any of the files waiting patiently for their return. Beckett and Castle ambled over so the lead detective could finally speak to her partners herself. She sat on the edge of Ryan’s desk while Castle claimed the only bare corner of Esposito’s. 

“You’re not staying, right?” she asked. If the captain expected the boys to finish out the day, she’d be hearing from Beckett. 

“Yeesh, you want to get rid of us again already?” frowned Esposito. Beckett swatted his arm, not appreciating his joke. 

“How’d it go with the captain?” asked Castle, leaning forward in hopes of hearing an enthralling story about the boys getting chewed out for disrupting the productivity of the bullpen. 

“We’re to report for work in the morning, and stop distracting everyone today,” said Ryan cheerfully. The familiar sparkle in his azure eyes temporarily masked the dark smudges under them. “That is, as long as we’re feeling fully recovered.”

“You’re taking this awfully well,” said Castle in disappointment. He clearly had been looking forward to an uncomfortable reunion where the Gates fawned over the un-cursed detectives and still tried to treat them like babies. Unfortunately, it appeared that Gates was going to handle this professionally and respectfully. 

“I got candy,” retorted the younger man, pushing the red Jolly Rancher between his teeth to show the writer. Okay, maybe the older woman did still remember the frightened four- and six-year-olds or the miserable nine- and eleven-year-olds. 

“You’re going to milk this for all it’s worth, aren’t you?” asked Castle suspiciously. 

“Yup,” replied Ryan shamelessly. 

A few of their closer friends at the precinct dared Gates’ anger to approach again, wanting to appease their concern for the duo’s well-being. Detective Karpowski led the charge, taking a seat across from Castle on the edge of Ryan’s desk. “So, what new-fangled poison kept the two of you out for so long?” Her concern wasn’t hidden very well under her jesting and Beckett smiled anew at the reminder of how much their colleagues cared about the detectives. 

“Something awful,” answered Esposito. “I strongly recommend against it. I don’t think I’ll ever drink lemonade again.” Ryan nodded in agreement. 

“Well, you missed an interesting couple of weeks,” said Karpowski. “Did you hear what your friends here have been up to while you were out?”

“No,” said Ryan. “Please, do tell.” He directed his very-much-not-innocent smile at Beckett before turning to face Karpowski. 

“Baby-sitting,” said the other woman, grinning teasingly for Beckett and Castle’s benefit. “Together, it seems.”

“Those poor kids,” said Esposito. He idly spun back and forth in his desk chair. 

“Together, huh?” Ryan picked up on what Karpowski considered the juiciest bit of gossip. He looked up at his senior partner again. “Something you want to tell us, Beckett?”

“That if you don’t mind your own business, you’re going to be on desk duty for the unforeseeable future,” she rejoined, playing along with the ruse of hers and Castle’s “secret” relationship. 

“You should have seen the kids, though,” said Karpowski, wisely steering away from the relationship thread. “Cute as buttons. Apparently they’re distant cousins of the writer-monkey. Though, it’s a sad story, I hear.” 

“It must have been pretty entertaining to watch Castle try to take care of a couple kids,” mused Ryan. He seemed to quickly lose interest in the conversation once it veered around to the curse. He flipped open the cover of the topmost file on his desk, though Beckett doubted he was actually reading it. If he looked tired that morning, he looked absolutely exhausted right now. It reminded her too much of how he’d been right after Vermont. 

“Yeah, too bad we missed it,” added Esposito, drawing Beckett’s attention back to the conversation. 

“Don’t worry, I took pictures,” said Castle. “Lots and lots of pictures. And video.”

If looks could kill, Beckett would be single again. Thankfully, all Esposito’s glare did was temporarily silence her boyfriend. “Okay, you two,” she said, hoping to restore the peace. “Some of us are actually on the clock and need to get back to work. So scram, and take Castle with you.” With any luck the boys would be able to rest back at the loft and by the time she got home, the haggardness in their forms would be gone. 

With good-natured grumbling about being kicked out, the three males collected their things and departed. Karpowski watched them go with a curious look on her face that Beckett didn’t like very much. “You know,” said the other detective. “Those babies Castle brought in the week before last sure remind me of Esposito and Ryan.” 

Beckett pretended to think about it for a moment. “Nope, I don’t see it at all,” she said.

Gates emerged from her office again and Beckett could tell that the captain was looking for her. Karpowski also picked up on Gates’ searching body language and bid her fellow detective good luck before heading back to her own desk. Beckett re-closed the file that Ryan had left open and started walking towards one of the few private offices on their floor. 

“Ah, Detective Beckett, there you are. Mr. Castle left with Detectives Ryan and Esposito?”

“Yes,” she confirmed, closing the door firmly behind herself. She sat across from the older woman. Captain Gates leaned back in her chair, a soft smile accompanying the distant look in her eyes. Before Beckett could start to speculate about what her boss was thinking, Gates snapped out of it and sat upright, adjusting the position of her glasses on her nose. 

“So they were turned back into adults yesterday?”

“Yes, sir. Things went pretty well considering the circumstances.”

“The circumstances?”

“It’s a long story,” deflected the detective. Unfortunately, Gates wanted to hear it so Beckett sighed and launched into the tale of being confronted by the necromancer in the city, going to the witches’ Council meeting, trying to hide in a new safe house but being attacked again by Dresden, ultimately defeating him, and then turning Ryan and Esposito back into adults. 

“Detective Esposito killed a powerful sorcerer as an eleven-year-old?” Gates looked a mix between proud and disbelieving. Beckett wasn’t sure what was so hard to believe. Esposito would always be her first choice of backup. Well, after Castle, depending on the circumstances. A thought struck her then and she imagined her partner spending hours with Internal Affairs, trying to explain why he was in Riverdale and what had prompted him to stab the suspect with a pocket knife instead of using his state-issued sidearm to “talk” the man into custody. 

“Technically, he only put Dresden in the dying state of mind,” said Beckett. “Bianca Castova finished him off.”

“The white witch?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I can tell it’s going to take me a while to wrap my mind around this, even having known that Detectives Ryan and Esposito were cursed,” said Gates, followed by a long exhale. “I guess my main concern right now is that they’re both okay.”

Beckett debated about trying to barter for more sick time on Ryan’s behalf, but a bigger part of her wanted him back at the precinct, where she could keep an eye on him herself. She couldn’t deny that she was looking forward to Castle’s return, as well. “They’re still getting over the last lingering effects of their ordeal but I expect they’re eager to get back to work.” _Besides that, all three of them will drive each other mutually crazy if the boys become bored while under forced rest at the loft._

Gates’ intuition helped her hear what Beckett wasn’t saying and she shook her head in resignation. “Detective Beckett, my understanding is that this whole affair started because of the Valduerez murder. That case is still open and the murderer unknown. Who knows what other crazy people you’ll unearth trying to close this thing, and I’m sure you’ll encounter more witches. Until this case is closed, I want those two here in the precinct, working behind the scenes.”

“Yes, sir.” It made sense. Beckett hadn’t exactly made a lot of friends among the witches and given how the most recent transformation was negatively affecting her partners, they would still be prime targets for anyone hoping to send Beckett a message. On the other hand, there was the matter of her partners, who hated being on desk duty. “And you already told them that?”

“They’ll take it better from you,” said Gates with a wry smile. “Dismissed.”

Because she agreed with the order to keep the junior detectives within the safety of the precinct, Beckett left without another word. Now she just had to convince Castle to break the news to Esposito.

xXx

The last person to find out about Ryan’s and Esposito’s return to adulthood was Demming. The robbery detective asked Beckett to pass along his congratulations to the pair once they finished comparing notes on the Valduerez case. For all of Demming’s good intentions and natural ability for detective work, it just wasn’t the same as having Beckett and her team on the case. With any luck, however, she’d be able to close the case by the end of the week, given the new information Widow Kennedy had passed along to Castle. She shared the witch’s desire to avoid further association with the Council.

Beckett left promptly at five, adding the lack of a new murder to her list of good omens following the return to New York City the previous night. She stopped to pick up dinner on her way home, making sure to get something that each of her boys would like. She was greeted at the door by Castle, who lauded her for bringing such a delectable meal. Beckett laughed and nudged him toward the kitchen. 

“Where’s Espo?” she asked, looking around the open space of the loft after Ryan joined them at the island by himself. 

“He’s exerting his independence,” said Castle dryly. He set out three place settings on the granite countertop. “What do you want to drink, babe?”

“Whatever you’re having,” she replied distractedly. “Is he coming back tonight?”

Castle set a bottle of Gatorade next to Ryan’s plate and then poured a glass of wine each for himself and Beckett. “I think so,” replied the writer. “He wanted to check on his apartment and take care of a few ‘personal’ things before getting dragged back into the slough of work. Junior here slept all afternoon.”

“You don’t have any ‘personal’ things to deal with?” asked Beckett as she took a seat next to her partner. If he’d really slept as long as Castle claimed, it didn’t seem to have done him much good. He leaned heavily against the bar counter. 

“No,” said Ryan. “I’m going to pretend like the real world doesn’t exist for as long as possible.”

“Or for as long as I let you mooch off of me,” teased Castle. Beckett appreciated his effort to keep the mood light. Castle finished serving the meal and then took his seat on the other side of Beckett. “How was the rest of your afternoon?”

“Uneventful, though I think the information that Ms. Kennedy gave you should help us solve the Valduerez case quickly,” said the detective. 

“It’d be nice if you could have finished that before Espo and I got back,” grumbled the Irishman. 

“You’re so funny,” said Beckett sarcastically. “Next time, don’t drink the lemonade and the investigation won’t take three weeks to close.” Ryan made a face at her. Beckett laughed and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Besides, I was severely handicapped without my favorite tech assistant. What is it that Castle calls Raley in his books?”

“Like you forgot,” said Ryan. “Don’t you have those things memorized by now?”

“No,” denied Beckett. She hoped Castle couldn’t see the heat coloring her cheeks. No such luck, unfortunately. He puffed out his chest proudly. 

She was saved by the front door opening and Esposito returning from his “personal” tasks. He dropped a black duffel bag by the front door before seeking out his friends. She motioned for him to join them at the island after finding a plate and glass for himself. Since the three barstools were full, Esposito leaned against the counter and held his plate up to eat. Castle looked at the younger man critically and voiced Beckett’s unspoken opinion. “We should move to the table so that everyone can have a seat.”

They transitioned to the dining area and resumed eating in a companionable quiet. Beckett’s attention shifted back and forth between her partners. Ryan currently had his head propped up in one hand with his elbow resting on the table as he picked at his dinner. He was eating it, which was a vast improvement over the past two weeks, but it looked like the effort was taxing the last of his reserves. 

Esposito looked similarly tired, though he didn’t have the added complication of severe anemia to further exhaust him. His concentration on his food was interrupted when he registered Beckett’s stare. His chocolate eyes met hers and Beckett could tell that he was making an effort to convey to her that he was fine. She believed him, mostly. She was beginning to second guess allowing her partners to return to work the next day again. 

Castle, for his part, hid his concerned looks better. He was probably more used to the boys’ appearances thanks to spending all day with them. The writer finally broke the conversation fast by drawing Beckett’s attention away from her boys with a question about the Valduerez case. She answered it succinctly, not really in the mood to talk shop. He got the hint and changed the topic. “Was everything in order at your place, Espo?”

“Yeah,” replied the Hispanic detective. “You didn’t have to hire the cleaning company, though.”

“It was no big deal. I’m sure nearly three weeks of dust and neglect had things looking less than inviting. I know I’d prefer to come home to a clean place after an extended vacation,” replied Castle. 

“Right,” said Esposito stiffly. Beckett struggled to work out what he was thinking. She’d gotten used to how easy it had been to read her older partner when he was a child. She preferred it to the carefully applied emotional mask of the adult detective. “So I stopped by Kevin’s place, too. I figured he’d be sleeping over here again tonight and I wanted to make sure a family of rats hadn’t escaped yet from that road kill couch.”

Kevin paused his robotic food intake to flip off his partner half-heartedly. Beckett licked her lips to hide her smile. Castle frowned and leaned back in his chair after depositing his cloth napkin beside his nearly empty plate. “You can stay here, too, if you want. It’ll give me some peace of mind to know that Randy’s reversal spell doesn’t suddenly develop a bunch of complications.”

“You’ve put up with us for nearly three weeks, Castle. I’m sure you’re sick of us,” argued Esposito. 

“You’re always welcome here, Javi,” corrected the writer. Beckett clearly heard the emphasis that her boyfriend put on her partner’s given name. Twenty-four hours since the curse had been broken hadn’t erased the older man’s affection for the younger. Castle wasn’t too proud to admit that he still cared deeply, and probably always would. It was Esposito who struggled to accept that the writer’s regard wasn’t dependent on how tall the detective was. 

In an effort to lighten the mood, or least change it from melancholy to something else, Castle continued. “Now, as for where you’ll sleep, that’s a more difficult problem to solve. You’re welcome to the couch, or I suppose you could borrow Alexis’ bed.”

“Why does Kevin get the guest room?” challenged Esposito. 

“Because he’s not nine anymore and I don’t feel like dragging him up a flight of stairs if he falls asleep on my dining room table,” retorted the writer. Both alert detectives instinctively sought out their partner. Ryan did look like he was about to face plant into his dinner plate. Beckett reached across the table to slide the circular dish out of harm’s way. 

Esposito wasn’t about to suggest that his partner sleep on the couch. “Look, it isn’t like he didn’t leech onto me almost every night of the curse. I can stand sharing for one more night.” 

“I’m sure you can,” said Castle evocatively. “But until you can prove to me that you have honorable intentions towards my little boy, his bedroom is off limits.”

“For Pete’s sake, Castle,” snapped Esposito irritably. Beckett failed to hide her mirth and received a dark look of her own. “It’s not funny, Beckett.” Actually, it kind of was, but she did her best to wipe the smile off her face, anyway. She knew that Esposito didn’t appreciate Castle’s quips implying that he and his partner were anything more than good friends. Thankfully, Ryan was too out of it to be offended himself, though the younger detective usually took Castle’s ribbing with more grace than Esposito, anyway. 

“I know that there are clean sheets on Alexis’ bed and I promise she won’t mind,” said Castle, adopting a serious tone. “Did you bring a change of clothes for yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Why don’t you help me put your partner to bed and then we can talk.”

“About what?” asked Esposito suspiciously. 

“Guy things,” replied the writer. Beckett pretended to be insulted that Castle was excluding her from his evening plans. In truth, she didn’t care. She had a suspenseful book dog-eared on Castle’s nightstand that she was eager to jump back into. 

Castle prodded Ryan until the Irishman snapped out of his half-doze with a confused, “What?” 

“Bedtime,” said the writer. “How’s your head?”

“Fine,” said the younger man unconvincingly. 

“Yeah, you look fine,” commented the writer, calling Ryan’s bluff. “Maybe you should stay home with me again tomorrow.”

“I want to go back to work,” mumbled the Irishman. 

“Bro, it’s pointless to push yourself,” said Esposito. Beckett suspected that he still felt guilty about the escape attempt in Vermont, no matter how many times Castle and Beckett tried to convince him that the short bid for freedom hadn’t hurt Ryan any worse than what Rayford Bellefonte had already done to him. 

“Really, I’m fine,” insisted Ryan. “I’ll feel so much better when things are one hundred percent back to normal.”

“Mm hm.” Esposito did a fairly good impression of Lanie’s skeptical hum. 

“You’ll probably also feel better after being pumped full of prescription medication,” said Castle. He took his plate with him when he journeyed to the kitchen to retrieve the various orange bottles of pills that had Ryan’s name taped to the front. Beckett collected the rest of the dinnerware and joined her boyfriend at the sink. 

“He really needs all of this?” she asked, picking up one of the bottles. She didn’t recognize the name of the medication. 

“It seems to help,” replied the writer as he finished rinsing off the dishes in preparation for putting them in the dishwasher. “He seemed well enough at the precinct this afternoon, after his first round with the drugs.”

That was true. He had taken a sharp decline from the perkiness layered over his fatigue that she remembered in the bullpen. She’d have to make sure he stayed on schedule with the medications so he didn’t crash at work like he did at dinner. 

Castle collected the rest of the prescriptions and carried them over to the table. He made a point to narrate how many of each pill he shook out so Ryan’s partners were aware of what the Irishman needed. As if he were still nine years old, the youngest detective blindly trusted the writer’s direction to take the medication.

The last bottle actually had Esposito’s name on it. Castle slid it across the table. “You’re supposed to take this when you feel like it,” he reminded the detective. 

“Yeah, I know,” replied Esposito, leaving it untouched. Beckett hoped that he was refusing the prescription grade painkillers because he actually felt fine and not because he was putting on an act. 

Ryan finished swallowing his medication and dropped his head so that his forehead rested on his forearm. Castle moved around to the Irishman’s side of the table and prodded him to get up and walk towards the guest room. Both Esposito and Castle hovered to one side or the other of the youngest male, though Ryan did manage to complete the trek to the bedroom without assistance. Beckett followed a few paces behind them, needing to see for herself that her partner made it safely to bed. 

It was rather entertaining to watch Castle and Esposito politely argue over who should get to crowd around the Irishman. Being upright and mobile cleared some of the sickly fog out of Ryan’s head and for the first time since declaring his intention to take advantage of the lingering protectiveness that the non-cursed adults felt for him, he snipped irritably at the pair of mother hens. Castle and Esposito did both take a step back, though they used the forced distance to accuse the other of being too pushy. 

“Okay you two, out,” ordered Beckett, taking up a firm stance in the doorway of the crowded bathroom. “I’ll make sure that Ryan doesn’t pass out while brushing his teeth. You can go have your manly heart-to-heart.”

“But--”

“Go,” she insisted, interrupting her boyfriend’s argument. With the bearing of a chastised puppy, the writer led the way out of the small room. Esposito maintained a look of defiance as he followed the older man. Ryan gave her a brief nod of thanks and returned to the mindless task of cleaning his teeth. 

Beckett sat on the edge of the bed while she waited for him to finish. The small amount of privacy allowed Ryan to complete his full nightly routine. Once finished, he flopped down on the queen mattress set next to her and draped his arm over his eyes to block out the glare of the light fixture directly above them. Beckett reached over to brush her hand over his forehead. He didn’t feel overly warm to the touch. “Are the meds helping at all, yet?” she asked softly. 

“A little. I just need to get some real sleep.”

“As opposed to fake sleep?” she questioned. Beckett maneuvered down the bed so she could spoon against the Irishman’s side, one arm thrown over his chest. He moved his arm from over his face to wrap around her back. Unlike Esposito, Ryan didn’t instinctively shift in protector mode and try to cradle her in such a way that shielded her from the world. He took a more reciprocal approach, looking to attain as much comfort out of their proximity as he gave.

“Mm hm,” he replied absently. 

“Hey, Ryan?” Instead of verbally replying, he cracked open one blue eye to look at her expectantly. “Have you had any nightmares since we got home, like you did when you were little?”

“As if this stupid anemia wasn’t the nightmare that I can’t escape?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m fine, Beckett. If anything, shouldn’t I be honored to suffer from the same types of growing pains as professional basketball players? If only I had being nearly seven feet tall to show for it.”

“I like you just like this,” Beckett said. She kissed his cheek. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Espo and I both know why you wear those seven inch heels. The joke’s on you, though. You’re not intimidating at all.”

“You…” She trailed off to laugh. “I wear the heels because they make my legs and ass look fabulous. But we’re not talking about my stunning fashion sense. You’re supposed to be telling me why you always look more exhausted when you wake up, instead of less.”

“Because apparently my body is no longer capable of producing healthy blood by itself.” She gave him an unimpressed look. “And because every time I close my eyes, I see rotting skeletons leering hatefully at me.”

She tightened her hold on him and pressed her face into the curve of his neck. She breathed deeply, meticulously reconciling the scent of aftershave and cologne with that of Johnson & Johnson’s and baby powder. “Randy gave me the ability to see the ‘scary faces’ that you and Javi can see now,” she said in a voice barely louder that a whisper. “I saw the necromancer’s true face in Riverdale. I don’t know if his face haunts me more, or Bracken’s.”

Ryan didn’t have an answer to that. He brought his other arm around her then and they settled into a companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts and memories. Beckett hadn’t shared much about her mother’s murder with the Irishman, instead leaning heavily on Castle for support and comfort. Before the writer, Esposito had gotten brief glimpses into her haunted past, and only when the pressure of carrying the burden by herself became overwhelming. She kept her heart closely walled off because she liked it that way. But if it would help her precious little boy - no, her beloved partner and younger brother - to overcome his trials, then she would gladly share. 

Those conversations would take place on another day. Right now, she was content to embrace him until he succumbed to his fatigue and settled into a deep sleep that she dearly hoped would be free of dreams. Beckett waited nearly ten minutes to make sure that Ryan would stay asleep if she accidentally bounced the bed too much trying to slide off of it. She successfully rose without waking him. She retrieved the spare blanket from the foot of the bed and spread it over her partner before dropping one last kiss on his cheek and turning off the lights. 

Castle and Esposito were still in the living room, deeply invested in their conversation. Neither noticed her slip down the hall to enter Castle’s office and then the master bedroom. Once inside, she shed her work clothes and pulled on a silky set of pajamas. She fluffed her hair over her shoulders as she made her way towards the bathroom. 

As Beckett brushed her teeth in preparation for bed, she glimpsed out of the corner of her eye the unopened box of Tampons sitting on the counter. She frowned around her toothbrush. Apparently her boys weren’t the only ones still suffering from the ordeal of the past couple weeks. The constant stress was still affecting her, too, it seemed. She’d never been this late for her period before.

xXx

Esposito grudgingly sat down at one end of Castle’s leather couch and shot one last glare of irritation at the older man for getting them kicked out of the guest room. Castle gave the detective a bored look, clearly not impressed by Esposito’s pretense of anger. The writer’s response brought his self-imagined feelings of judgment and disappointment bubbling to the surface and the Hispanic detective moved to quickly squash them down. Since when did he care what Castle thought of him? Last two and a half weeks notwithstanding, of course.

“I really don’t have anything to say to you,” Esposito said. Surely _that_ statement would get them started on the right foot. 

“Then you can just listen.” Castle sat on the middle cushion of the couch and regarded the younger male carefully. It added the feeling of claustrophobia to Esposito’s confused emotions. Instead of admitting that the writer, or anything for that matter, made him uncomfortable, Esposito did his best to abate the feeling by hugging the sofa’s armrest as discretely as possible. 

When Castle didn’t immediately launch into a lecture about all of the ways Esposito was messing up being full-sized again, the veteran curiously looked over at him. Castle with a speech impairment wasn’t something he was used to and he had to see if some supernatural creature had rendered the older man mute. “What?” he asked when the writer’s unwavering gaze pressed against the frazzled ends of his nerves. 

“I’m trying to think of a delicate way to put this that doesn’t result in an unjustified tantrum.”

“What the hell, Castle? I’m not a little kid anymore.” Not that he was a little kid recently, either. That was just a cheap illusion. Instead of scolding him for the pseudo-bad language, Castle smirked as if Esposito had proven his point. The urge to get in the man’s face and insist that he wasn’t a baby, to sit on him until it finally got through his thick skull, threat of tickles be damned, to… Esposito dragged a hand over his face and wished he could scoop the unwanted thoughts from his mind with a spoon. Stupid childish emotions and needs. Why hadn’t they gone away?

“So, do you want to talk about our little disagreement over Ryan first, or the reason you’ve suddenly decided to hate me?”

The disagreement, as Castle put it, over Ryan seemed like a much safer topic, but Esposito couldn’t get past the writer’s hugely mistaken interpretation of the detective’s feelings towards him. For as confused as the reversal spell had left him, barely able to tell up from down where his emotions were concerned, he was quite sure that he didn’t hate Castle. If he was truthful with himself, which he didn’t want to be because the truth made him feel weak and needy, the problem was that he liked Castle a little _too_ much. Esposito didn’t do close relationships, especially with people like Castle. His friendships with Beckett and Ryan, and his brief affair with Lanie, were all of the emotional contact that he needed. Caring hurt too much. He didn’t need to go through another Ike Thorton, or Roy Montgomery. 

Through his whirling thoughts, Esposito realized that he hadn’t yet refuted the writer’s claim. “I don’t hate you,” he said abruptly. There, that should hold him for a few seconds. Esposito pressed down the memories of how secure he’d felt when Castle had held him tightly in the aftermath of the kidnapping, both in the disgusting living room of the shack and the falsely cheerful waiting room of the Vermont hospital. He’d managed to grow up once without the presence of a father and he surely didn’t need one now that he was entering his late thirties. 

“I know,” said the writer in a low voice that reminded Esposito of the way Cavalrymen calmed their skittish horses. “I think that the problem is this: even though you and Ryan are back in your grown-up bodies, you’re still harboring little Javi and Kevin feelings.”

“Whether or not that’s the case,” said Esposito, unwilling to admit that Castle had hit the nail right on the head, “it doesn’t change the fact that we are adults again, and it’s time to outgrow those attachments.”

“Really? Because I hope Alexis never decides that she’s too grown up for her old man.”

“She’s _actually_ your daughter,” said Esposito with a little more heat than he intended. Hopefully Castle would interpret his passionate response as frustrated instead of jealous. Esposito didn’t do jealousy. He’d learned a long time ago that life wasn’t fair and expecting it to be only led to disappointment. “You aren’t supposed to care for her any more or less depending on how old she is.”

“And I’m supposed to care less about you and Ryan now that you’re no longer nine and eleven?”

Esposito was convinced that Castle was being obtuse on purpose. It really wasn’t that difficult of a concept. The man had filled a role that had been necessary for the duration of the curse, and no matter how much the little spellbound detective had learned to count on that sense of security and affection, he could hardly expect Castle to continue playing the part of concerned guardian. He didn’t even really want that - he hadn’t lost his sense of independence or self-sufficiency as a child - but it had been nice to feel like he could depend on someone else, too. So yes, Esposito fully expected Castle to go back to their pre-cursed relationship status, where the writer followed Beckett around like a lovesick yuppie and occasionally pestered the junior detectives when he wanted something.

“Listen, Espo,” said Castle after the detective had replied affirmatively to his question. “I didn’t start caring more about you and your partner when you were cursed. I love both of you just as much as I always have. The type of caring changed, sure, but I’ve always been very concerned about your well-being. For two and a half weeks, I loved you like a son instead of like a good friend. Or better yet, like a brother.” He paused to give Esposito a moment to consider his words. “You know that I’m very much in love with Kate and as soon as she’ll have me, I’ll marry her. That means that I’m going to be your big brother-in-law anyway. So you’re stuck with me; six, eleven, or thirty-six.”

“I don’t need you to act all fatherly or brotherly towards me,” said Esposito defiantly. It was better before, when Esposito had kept everyone at arm’s length. That’s what Esposito wanted to consider “safe”, not the memories of hiding in Castle’s shadow when the monsters had come knocking. 

“Maybe not _need_ , but--” 

“What do you get out of this? A good laugh? A check mark in your list of charities?”

Castle pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a groan of consternation. “Gods, what I would give to have two minutes with… Never mind, it’s not important. The point is, things changed thanks to the curse. When you finally let go of your stubbornness and let me take care of you after the necromancer attacked us in the hail storm, you realized that it’s okay to trust certain other people with your well-being, and that of people you care about. You _can_ trust me, Espo. I know I’m not perfect and I’m sure I’ll mess up and let you down, but it will never be intentionally. If all your trust ever amounts to is allowing me to take care of Kate, that’s okay. I just don’t want you to purposefully shut me out again after finally letting me in.”

“I’m thirty-six years old, Castle. I served in Iraq and now I’m a homicide detective. I don’t need someone to take care of me. I take care of people.”

“I’m not offering to make your lunch every day or tie your shoes for you,” said Castle. Esposito could sense the other man’s exasperation. That’s good, right? Castle will stop bothering him if Esposito can make him angry enough. “I just don’t want you to rebuild a brick wall between us. You’re not the only one whose dad was a dead-beat. At least yours made a half-hearted effort to keep in touch with you.” 

They did have that in common. Esposito considered the idea of letting the bond he’d formed with Castle evolve from a father-son dynamic to one of good friends with similar single-parent childhoods. Esposito could be pretty insightful when the mood took him, and surely he could share some of his wisdom gained in the military with the writer. It would be nice to share a beer with someone who understood his history. Ryan tried so hard to get his partner to open up and share his feelings, but Esposito could never find the words to describe his inner-workings without feeling like a fool describing the rough streets he’d wandered as a kid to the middle-class Catholic boy with the picture-perfect family. But Castle already knew most of that. Maybe he hadn’t gotten into quite as much trouble with the law as Esposito, but the detective had heard rumors about Castle’s less than pristine record. 

“I am a good listener,” said Esposito cautiously. “Lord knows I know more than I ever wanted to about Ryan’s personal life. If you wanted bend my ear about something, it would be a nice change of pace from his candy-cane problems.” Not that Esposito _didn’t_ want to know anything and everything about his partner - it made it easier to keep track of the Irishman when his habits and quirks were so well known to the older detective - but Castle didn’t need to know that. Esposito had to maintain some semblance of macho independence and emotional detachment. 

“I’d like that,” said the writer. Esposito appreciated that Castle didn’t try to drag a promise out of him to talk about his feelings, too. There was something to the claims that Castle was an excellent judge of people. 

“So,” continued the older man. “While you’re busy sorting through everything that happened, I’ll make sure Ryan has everything he needs until he’s over the worst of the witchy side-effects from the reversal spell.” He said it nonchalantly, as if he thought Esposito would just agree because Castle made it sound like no big deal. Maybe he wasn’t the best judge of people after all.

“That was the deal we made when I was eleven,” argued Esposito. “It doesn’t apply anymore.”

“You’re not the only one with lingering feelings from everything that happened,” complained Castle. “It took me a few days to get my sea legs back, but I enjoyed playing house. Not so much the destruction to both my apartment and my summer home, or the spur of the moment trip to Vermont, but I liked the other parts. So humor me and let me have my fun until Ryan decides to go all Super Mr. Independent on me, too.”

“How many more times, exactly, am I going to have to ‘humor’ you?” asked Esposito wryly. 

“You’re so good at it,” said Castle with a stupid grin. “You should make it a habit.”

“Dream on, writer-monkey.”

“I will, because my dreams come true,” teased the older man. “We need to come up some kind of a truce though, because Kate will keep kicking us out if we don’t. In fact, we should probably form an alliance. She discovered that she has a maternal side and she’s going to want to indulge, too.”

“You do realize that you just asked me to pick you over Beckett,” said Esposito. He raised an eyebrow at the writer. 

Castle thought about it for a second and grinned when he came to the same conclusion as the detective. “Well, turnabout is fair play. She’s currently in there, trying to steal Ryan away from me.” He jabbed a finger in the direction of the guest bedroom. Some of his childish emotions must have gotten loose again, because Esposito found the writer’s comment funnier than it should have been. He managed to suppress his laugh but he couldn’t hide his smirk of amusement. 

“We good?” asked Castle, his conspiratorial grin melting into a softer one, full of brotherly affection. 

“Almost,” said Esposito. “We still need to talk about all of the times you tried to embarrass me on purpose.”

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t just try. I can recall quite a few successes.”

Esposito shook his head. “I’m not a baby anymore, Castle. You should keep that in mind.” His threat was probably adversely affected by his semi-amused tone. He was serious, though. The scene in the Manhattan mall… man, just thinking about it made his good mood burn off like tinder in a campfire. He didn’t want to end the conversation on a negative note so he pushed the memory back and focus simply on subverting any future attempts by the writer to humiliate him in public. 

At least Castle had the good sense to look slightly intimidated. “How about we call it a draw and start over. You did your best to make me look bad, too, you know. And you never let me kiss my girlfriend in peace. I’m in withdrawals by now.”

“I think you’ll live.”

“Barely.”

Okay, so Castle wasn’t that bad of a guy. Esposito could probably stand to let one more person into his exclusive friend club. Besides, if he stayed close to the writer, it’d be easier to murder him if he ever even thought about breaking Beckett’s heart. Because alliance or not, _nobody_ got to hurt his girl.

xXx

Castle and Esposito joked around for a few minutes longer until he became aware of the detective’s failed attempts to disguise his increasingly frequent yawns. He might not be as wrung out by the reversal spell as his partner, but Esposito was still suffering from side-effects. The writer made sure that his friend had everything he needed and wasn’t too freaked out by the idea of sleeping in Alexis’ room.

Before retiring to his own suite, he slipped into the dark guest room to check on the Irishman. By the faint light of the moon through the partially open blinds, he could see Ryan alone on the bed, wrapped in the spare blanket that was usually folded at the end of the bed. Maternal feelings or not, Kate couldn’t get their boy _in_ the bed? Castle decided it wasn’t worth waking the younger man up, so he left him alone and slipped out of the room. Out of habit, he left the door cracked open.

Kate was still awake when he entered his room. She looked up from her book and smiled warmly at him. “You work things out with Espo?”

“I think so,” replied the writer. He wouldn’t gossip about the detective behind his back, so Castle left it at that. “Was Ryan okay after we left?”

“Just really tired,” replied Kate. “For as much as he sleeps, it seems he’s not sleeping well.” 

Nightmares, Castle deduced. He frowned as he sat on the edge of the bed. “I checked on him after Esposito went to bed. He looked like he was sleeping fine for now.”

“Not surprised.” Kate smirked at him. “Daddy’s boy or not, when a little boy doesn’t feel good, he just wants his mommy.”

He knew it! His conniving girlfriend… He imagined her in a skin-tight black leather ensemble with a scary whip and a devilish grin. Sexy conniving, though. He needed to brush his teeth. He escaped into the bathroom and made sure to read the full list of ingredients in his toothpaste as he brushed.

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more to go after this… Chapter 67 will also be a marathon chapter.
> 
> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.   
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art.


	67. Third Wednesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein all good things must come to an end...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Sixty-Seven

Beckett once more awoke alone, though she was rather glad to not have anyone aware of her mad dash to the bathroom to be ill. She knelt on the plush rug at the base of the toilet and wiped her palm across her brow. She didn’t think she was feverish, nor did she have any other flu-like symptoms besides the nausea. Yesterday, she’d attributed the upset stomach feeling to the strain of the past fortnight. Her nausea was worse today, despite her not being as stressed. With a deep frown gracing her mouth, she pushed herself off the floor and stepped towards the glass shower enclosure. She started the hot water running and then detoured to the sink to wash her hands and brush her teeth. By the time she was finished, the water was just shy of boiling and exactly how she liked it.

Though the sick feeling persisted, she didn’t feel the need to hover by the door of the water closet. Hopefully some breakfast would settle her stomach and it would stop bothering her by the time she reached the precinct. Beckett was determined to not lose any more days to this awful case. The sooner she had Serafina Valduerez’s murderer behind bars, the better. With the exceptions of Randy Bellefonte and Bianca, she hoped to never meet another witch again. 

When she emerged from the master bedroom, via Castle’s home office, she found all three of her boys crowded around the bar. Ryan was in the process of mixing a mountain of sugar into his black coffee when she came to stand next to him. “Did you sleep all right?” she asked, placing her hand on his upper back. 

“Better,” he replied absently. 

Unlike Ryan and Castle, Esposito had a plate of mostly consumed breakfast in front of him. She liked the look of the scrambled eggs and bacon, so she checked to see if any remained on the stove. Castle, her wonderful boyfriend, anticipated her hunger and had a new batch of eggs nearly done. Beckett raided the refrigerator, looking for something sweet to accompany her double serving of protein. She settled on some grapes and the last two squares of a Hersey’s bar that someone had unwisely left alone on the top shelf. 

“So, what’s the plan for getting over to the precinct this morning?” asked Castle. 

“My car’s here now,” said Esposito. “I was planning to drive.”

“I’m going to drive, too,” said Beckett. “Why don’t you take Ryan and Castle can carpool with me.”

“Fine with me,” said the Hispanic detective. 

“I’ll join you guys in a couple hours,” said Castle. “I need to swing by Goodwill and Babies ‘R’ Us.” He paused and pointed his index finger at each of the junior detectives in turn. “Do not drink any magical potions and get yourselves turned into little kids again.” The stern tone made Beckett laugh and she had to cough faintly a couple of times to get the bit of egg dislodged from her airway. Matching offending expressions were directed at her.

“There’s no chance of that,” said Esposito. “From now on we’ll get you to taste test everything, first.”

“Cute,” said Castle dryly. 

“Speaking of the car seats and the clothes and everything else; we need to work out a way to pay you back,” said Ryan. 

“You don’t have time for that conversation right now,” replied the writer. He held up his phone so the Irishman could see the time. “We can discuss it later, okay?”

Ryan looked hesitant to agree with putting off the discussion about something which greatly concerned him. Still, it was true that the three detectives needed to hit the road sooner than later. Beckett gave Castle a fond smile, silently thanking him for not flippantly dismissing the boys’ desire to bear some of the financial burden from the curse. She knew that he didn’t expect to be repaid for his generosity. At the same time, she knew how much it bothered her partners to feel like they were taking advantage of their wealthy friend. 

The group headed out together, with Castle peeling off first to head towards his building’s parking structure and the detectives parting ways on the sidewalk in front of the building. As she slid behind the wheel of the Charger, Beckett took a second to swallow a few times, hoping to push down the rising nausea. She found a mildly questionable pack of Trident in her glove compartment and popped a piece in her mouth. The minty flavor and the act of chewing usually worked to abate the urge to be ill. 

At the precinct, she mentally willed the elevator to rise more quickly so she could reach the restroom before her upset stomach overcame the effects of the chewing gum. Thankfully, the freshly sterilized room was empty. 

She inspected her reflection in the mirror above the sink as she finished washing her hands and wiping at the corners of her mouth. In her locker outside of the precinct’s private gym she had a toothbrush and toothpaste. She’d have to endure the sour taste in her mouth until she could make it down there. In the meantime, she popped another piece of gum. 

Her color seemed okay and no sweat beaded along her hairline, so she doubted that she had an appreciable fever. If this kept up, she’d make it a point to swing by the morgue and get Lanie’s preliminary opinion. She spent one last second checking that her hair hadn’t gotten too mused and then exited the restroom.

Her partners were at their desks, taking stock of the unfortunate amount of backlog that faced them. At least Beckett had been able to clean out her email inbox a few times during the curse. Ryan and Esposito were looking at the full brunt of their two and a half weeks absence. 

“Why don’t you two start working on the paperwork dealing with your poisoning and read through the casework afterward,” she suggested. Filling out the forms related to the sick leave was probably less daunting than trying to catch up with the investigation. “Make sure your stories match, too,” she added, keeping her voice low. 

“If Ryan writes both of the reports, they’ll match perfectly,” said Esposito. 

“Unless I write in yours that you were just playing hooky,” grumbled the Irishman. 

“If you need pictures to support that claim, let me know,” teased Beckett. Esposito shook his head and turned back towards his own computer monitor. “I’m going to run downstairs for a minute. I’ll brief you on the investigation when I return.” The two junior detectives nodded absently, both already searching for the necessary forms on the precinct network. Beckett didn’t tarry - she wanted to reach her toothbrush as quickly as possible. 

To her relief, the strange nausea was nearly gone now. She slammed her locker shut after putting away the teeth cleaning utensil. While she slid the combination lock back into place, she mused once more about how her body was still reacting negatively to stressors that her mind no longer registered. The best she could come up with was that there was a delay in her system. 

Beckett waited for her partners to finish the first of many forms for which IA would be looking. It took longer than necessary, thanks to the numerous interruptions from well-wishers and Captain Gates. There were also a few inquiries into the well-being of Castle’s little cousins. Beckett stammered for a second before replying that the boys’ parents had managed to convince the state that they were fit to regain custody of their little boys. Letting the kids be kidnapped while in Castle’s temporary custody hadn’t helped their qualifications as foster parents, either, despite it not being their fault. 

By the time Ryan and Esposito gathered by her desk and the sparsely notated white board, Castle had arrived. He sat in her chair since Ryan had taken his and Esposito didn’t want to share the desktop. The three other homicide detectives, who had picked up the slack while her team was incapacitated, also gathered around to help fill in any gaps in Beckett’s narrative. Beckett took a brief second to scan the board one last time before launching into a summary of the past couple of weeks. 

“Okay, so this all started on Friday, June 28, when Seraphina Valduerez’s body was found in an alley.” Beckett tapped on one of the photographs showing the still form of the eight-year-old, dressed in a yellow sundress. Her blood-spattered Hello Kitty backpack was in the corner of the picture. “Nobody saw the murder take place, but a resident heard someone climbing over the fence at the back of the alley and we were able to recover surveillance footage showing a man with a medium build fleeing the area.”

“We remember that part,” said Esposito. He crossed his arms casually over his chest and glared at a different image clipped to the board under the “Victims” heading. 

“And I’m sure you remember traveling up to speak with the victim’s mother and mo- _aunt_ , Nora Bellefonte.” Beckett hoped no one caught her near slip. It would be weird trying to explain why an eight year old had a mother-in-law. She spared the mug shot of the old woman a glare of her own. 

“During which the esteemed Ms. Bellefonte served you some spiked lemonade,” said Castle. 

“I doubt I’ll ever forget _that_ ,” grumbled Ryan. 

“And like little babies, you had to take the next two weeks off of work to deal with your tummy-ache,” teased the writer. 

“I feel better now,” replied Esposito, his tone promising lots of pain for the older man if he kept on that subject. 

“Guys, focus,” chided Beckett. She looked back at the murder board. “We questioned Bellefonte and her two sons, Rayford and Randall. The older son proved to be just as acerbic as his mother.”

“He sure seemed to take a shining to Mr. Castle,” said Detective Kleburg. “Didn’t he break into both your loft and your house in Southampton?”

“Nah, he has better taste than that,” rejoined the writer. Beckett barely hid the shudder than ran through her. She knew that Rayford Bellefonte despised her, but it was his brief ally’s touch that still made her feel sick to her stomach. Maybe that’s why she woke up every morning nauseous. She’d know if he’d cast a spell on her, wouldn’t she? Maybe she should ask Randy or Bianca. 

She needed to get her mind off of that for now, however. “Two days later, Rayford Bellefonte did break into Castle’s loft, though nothing was taken. It’s assumed he was looking for someone, because a week after that, he managed to abduct Castle’s young relations from his home in Southampton.” She subconsciously scanned each of her partners’ faces. They looked okay with the reminder of that terrible weekend spent in the woods.

“To which Detective Beckett had to go running off to save the day,” said Detective Johnson with a half-smirk. 

“The next time you’re out that way, stop by and visit Chief Brady. You’ll see why I needed to be there,” said Beckett. 

“I think it was because of your cute friend at the FBI,” said Detective Holt, joining in with the banter of her team. While usually the dark humor of the precinct amused her, Beckett wasn’t in the mood to be peeling off the scabs of wounds that had just begun to start healing. She swallowed her displeasure and soldiered on with her summary. 

“While she was in jail for poisoning Ryan and Esposito, Ms. Bellefonte suffered a stroke and was transferred to the hospital under police guard. While recovering, a Mr. Winston Kennedy snuck into her hotel room and poisoned her.”

“Poetic, if you can call it that,” said Castle. “She tries to poison a couple of detectives; she’s murdered by poison while incarcerated… Nobody?” He looked between the detectives, looking for any support. Disappointed, he slouched in her chair. 

“Intent on continuing the vicious train of murders, Rayford Bellefonte showed up at his mother’s funeral to murder Kennedy in revenge for his mother’s death,” said Beckett. 

“Did we ever learn conclusively the cause of death for Kennedy?” asked Holt. 

“Um, I believe it was strangulation, but you’d have to double check me on that,” said Beckett. Usually she knew exactly how each of her victims had died, and it was no different this time. However, how did one describe magical asphyxiation?

“Who are these other nefarious looking characters on the board?” asked Castle. Beckett shot him a grateful look for changing the subject away from the inexplicable way Kennedy had perished. 

She pointed to the portrait of the red-headed man. “Greg Hanson knew the victim and probably interacted with her just before her death. Apparently, Valduerez worked for him, stealing expensive jewelry. No one questioned the cute little third-grader, who in reality was a master pick-pocket.”

“There was some kind of falling out between them,” added Kleburg. “Valduerez showed signs of firing a shotgun within a few days of her death, and scatter was found embedded in the wall of Hanson’s office.”

“Hanson was harassing a number of people in connection with his sub-legal activities,” said Beckett. “Besides using minors to steal jewelry, he was into pornography. According to Rayford Bellefonte, Valduerez had had enough and tried to kill Hanson.”

“But she was unsuccessful, so he had her killed, instead?” asked Johnson. 

“That’s what it looks like,” said Beckett. She chewed on her lower lip for a second. “Valduerez’s foster guardians were the Andersons, who gave up the name of her social worker as Wayne Jones.” She pointed to the only photograph under the “Suspect” heading. “We have yet to locate Mr. Jones, though we have reason to believe that he has ties to Greg Hanson as well.”

“And that’s where we stand,” said Kleburg. “I sent unis out this morning to check on his local hangouts again.” Beckett nodded, though she didn’t have much hope that they’d be able to locate the man. If he suspected that the Council was looking for him, which Widow Kennedy had heavily implied, he would have skipped town long ago. She made a mental note to put a bee in Sorensen’s bonnet. The FBI’s resources would stretch further than hers.

“In the meantime,” she said, not letting any of her doubt taint her tone, “Castle and I are going to visit Mr. Hanson in jail to see if we can link the two men together from his end. Espo, you and Ryan go through Jones’ bank statements and phone calls again. Look for any place he might go outside of New York. J and K, keep up the canvasses, in case our suspect wasn’t smart enough to run.”

The detectives all nodded in understanding of her directives. Beckett fished her purse out of the drawer of her desk and glanced over to see if Castle was ready to go. He was rather obviously watching the boys settle in at their desks, his brow barely furrowed in concern. “Rick?” she asked softly. 

“Are we okay leaving them here alone?” he asked, likewise keeping his tone low.

“They’re in the middle of a police station,” said Beckett. She smiled at him. “Besides, they’re not babies anymore, remember?”

“You’re right,” he said, shaking off his funk. “Let’s go. I can’t wait to let this bottom-feeder know what I think about his plans for my ‘relations’.” Beckett shook her head and led the way towards the elevator.

xXx

Detective Ryan stared glumly at his computer monitor until the images started to blur together. A few hours of uninterrupted sleep had boosted his energy levels to the point that he could fake a happy countenance through the first half of the day. Now though, as the digital clock at the bottom right corner of his screen painstakingly crept towards five o’clock, he was finding it harder to hide how awful he was feeling. The next three and a half hours seemed insurmountable.

He’d taken his prescription medications right after lunch, including the steroids that were supposed to be helping combat his anemia. Yesterday, the pills had helped. Now, it was as if he hadn’t taken anything extra. His headache pounded in all directions and a dizzying lethargy made it impossible to concentrate. Right now, it would be great to be nine years old and have the chance for an afternoon nap. Maybe that was a good thing, because he imagined that if he did give in to the urge to sleep, he might never wake up again. The tingling burn that had bothered him directly after the completion of the reversal spell was back and he’d heard his friends’ story about how he’d slipped into some type of coma.

Footsteps approached his and Esposito’s desks. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise and it wasn’t due to the tingle under his skin. When a stainless steel travel mug landed with a soft clink on the corner of his desk and he caught the scent of a familiar perfume, he very slowly raised his eyes to meet those of the newcomer. The older woman’s benevolent smile did nothing to ease his apprehension. 

“Bianca,” greeted Esposito, sounding just as uneasy as Ryan felt. The Hispanic detective leaned back in his chair, which caused the wheeled seat to roll a few inches towards Ryan’s desk. 

“Good afternoon, _tesoro_ ,” the white witch replied. 

“What are you doing here?” Esposito’s question was a bit rude, especially given the blunt way he’d delivered it. Fortunately, Bianca brushed off the slight. 

“Aren’t New York City’s concerned citizens allowed to visit the stronghold of their protective authorities?”

Ryan couldn’t help glancing towards Beckett’s empty desk as Esposito said, “Beckett’s not here.” The lead detective and her boyfriend were once again out. Their interview with Hanson that morning had done nothing but reignite the older pair’s hatred of the man. Maybe, when it didn’t hurt his head so much to concentrated, he’d think a little more on the gut feeling he had that there was something about Hanson that Castle and Beckett were hiding from him and Esposito. The news that unis had managed to track down Jones’ sister chilled Beckett marginally and the pair had once again set out. 

“While it’s a pity to have missed Katherine, I was looking for you two,” said Bianca.

Bianca sounded more relieved to have dodged Beckett than disappointed. The Irishman frowned introspectively. He most certainly didn’t need his older partner to defend him from unsavory sorts, but he wouldn’t mind if Beckett happened to burst into the bullpen just then and tell Bianca to hit the road. Could anyone blame him, after the way the witch had let her peers manhandle him and Javier at the Council meeting? It would take more than helping Randy turn them back into adults for Ryan to let go of that feeling of betrayal. 

“Excuse me, ma’am,” said another familiar female voice. She wasn’t Beckett, but the overly attentive Captain Gates would do just as well to dispatch their visitor. “May I help you?”

A flash of ill humor lit Bianca’s eyes as she turned to face Gates. The captain’s expression was a hybrid between disapproving and accommodating. The strange combination made Ryan’s eyes cross. Their captain wasn’t one to risk insulting a possibly influential visitor, but she’d been in mother bear mode all day, picking up Beckett’s slack when it came to over-protecting the newly returned detectives. 

Ryan briefly caught Esposito’s eye and wondered if his partner was thinking the same thing as him: it would be kind of entertaining to see Bianca and Captain Gates get into it. He wasn’t sure who he’d put his money on. If Bianca didn’t cheat and use magic, he’d probably go with Gates. Esposito finally broke his lingering look and wiped the smirk off his face. “Captain Gates, this is Bianca.”

“Bi… _Oh_.” Gates took a half step back and straightened her shoulders. “Bianca Castova, right? Detective Beckett has told me much about you.” Neither detective failed to notice how Gates neglected to extend a hand in greeting. 

“I’m sure,” said the witch. She stared openly at the captain for a few seconds. “You seem familiar to me,” she said. 

“Well, I don’t think we’ve met before,” said the captain. 

“No, we haven’t,” agreed Bianca. “Are you related to Harriet?”

“I have a great aunt named Harriet.”

“Then that is why you are familiar to me,” decided the white witch. “If you don’t mind, Captain Gates, I’d like to borrow your detectives for a few minutes.”

 _Tell her no_ , thought Ryan, trying to telepathically send the message to his superior. Even if he wanted to deal with a witch right now, he wasn’t sure he could stand without falling over. As it was, he had to brace himself on his desk. Castle, the current keeper of his medications, needed to come back soon because Ryan needed another dose. 

“Well, I…” Gates trailed off, unable to make up her mind. Ryan cursed silently. Bianca was going to jump all over the captain’s hesitation. 

“Just for coffee,” promised the fair-haired woman. She exuded charm now and of course Captain Gates fell for it. Even Beckett wasn’t completely immune to the witch’s tactics and she was more familiar with the witch’s shiftiness. “I hear there’s a high quality espresso machine in your break room. I won’t even take them out of your station.” By the look on Esposito’s face, he could clearly hear her patronizing tone. Gates must not have recognized it, probably because she liked treating them like they were still little kids, too. It was only fun when he got candy out of it. 

“I suppose that’s all right,” said Gates. Bianca smiled winningly, always pleasant when she got what she wanted. Captain Gates abandoned them to the witch’s schemes. Ryan grudgingly summoned his strength and pushed himself up, using the desk as leverage. The bullpen spun viciously around him. Not good.

“How long has he been feeling dizzy?” Bianca asked Esposito. It was only his partner’s steadying hands that kept Ryan from becoming intimately acquainted with the floor. He struggled to merge all of the wobbly forms of Bianca back into one and decided that the witch was pretty good at faking genuine concern. 

“Since lunch,” answered Esposito. “Sit down, bro.”

That’s the best idea anyone had had in the past hour. Ryan rested his forehead against the cool surface of his desk and willed the world to hold still for a second. Esposito hovered worriedly next to him. Ryan tried to anchor himself around the pressure applied by his best friend’s hand on his upper back. It helped a little. 

“Look at me, _a leanbh_ ,” said Bianca. She cupped his cheek after he managed to sit up and turned his head in her direction. He felt the now familiar wash of cool magic enter through her hand as she stared into his eyes. The passive, yet no less intrusive, magic inflamed the sickly burn in his nerve endings. “Here, honey, drink some of this.”

“No,” he managed to say. He didn’t want anything else magic-based. He was done with the witches and their potions. 

“It’s good for you,” insisted the white witch. 

“No.”

“I heard Katherine found an interesting way of getting you to drink last time,” said Bianca. Was it just him or did she sound a bit threatening now? 

“You’re not kissing him,” said Esposito. His grip on Ryan’s shoulder tightened. 

“There are plenty of pretty ladies here,” said the witch, looking past the Irishman to his partner. 

“Just drink it, Ryan,” ground out Esposito. Bianca uncapped the thermos and held it up to his mouth. He felt too awful to stand up to both his partner and the older woman, so he followed Esposito’s command. The fake sweetener still barely concealed the chalky taste of the bright pink brew. Like Randy had done the first time, Bianca took his hand and magically drew the potion through him faster than his body could naturally distribute it. The electric charge making his skin burn fizzled out and his many aches faded. He wished there was an equally effective antidote that didn’t have to come from the witches. 

An overwhelming urge to sleep rolled over him and he blinked tiredly. At least Bianca’s disquiet expression didn’t fade in and out of focus anymore. 

“Why does he keep lapsing?” asked Esposito. 

“It appears that his body is too busy recovering from the anemia and rapid growth spurt to devote any energy to rebuilding his magical tolerance,” said Bianca. “Come, let’s have some of your famous espresso.”

Ryan was feeling better now, save for the strong desire to curl up on the couch in the break room and sleep until it was time to go home. That didn’t stop Esposito from walking directly beside him, or Bianca from resting a hand on the small of his back. In the small room, Bianca shooed Esposito away to make them lattes. She followed Ryan to the couch and sat directly next to him. He inched as far away as the armrest would allow. 

“I’m better at the coffee machine than Javi,” Ryan informed their unwelcome guest.

“No you’re not,” retorted Esposito, shooting a look at his partner. 

“I’m sure he does just fine,” said Bianca, patting the Irishman’s knee. “Has Katherine managed to track down Wayne Jones yet?”

“No,” said Esposito. “She and Castle are talking to his sister.” The Hispanic detective carried over a mug of espresso and steamed milk for both Bianca and Ryan. The younger detective took a cautious sip, expecting it to still be scalding hot. He was right, it was too warm to drink, and also much too bitter. He made a face and handed it back to his partner. “What?”

“Did you burn the grounds to a crisp?”

“No, I did it exactly like Castle showed us,” said Esposito, sounding a bit hurt. “You’ve never complained before.” He took his own tentative sip of the rejected latte. “It’s fine.”

“Don’t worry, _tesoro_. The _magia_ sometimes amplifies bitter flavors.” She took a small drink and smiled reassuringly at the older detective. “Come, sit.” She patted the empty spot on her other side. Esposito sat on the very front edge of the couch, from where he could look past Bianca and frown unhappily at his partner. 

“Is that why you’re here? To check on the investigation?” asked Ryan, ignoring Esposito. 

“To check on my precious boys,” she corrected. “Randall is interested in following up with you, too, though he’s been extremely busy in the aftermath of losing his office and being integrated into the Council.”

“You conned him into joining your group of do-baddies?” Esposito asked. 

“Really, Katherine has filled your heads with nonsense,” said Bianca. 

“We were there, remember?” Ryan definitely remembered.

“Then you understand why it’s important for a white witch to always be a part of the proceedings. Without the influence of pure magic to guide them, the Council could easily be lost to darker forces.”

“You’re the white witch,” stated Esposito. Ryan mirrored his partner’s confusion. 

“For a little while longer,” Bianca said softly. She squeezed Esposito’s hand. “Now, besides your dear partner’s low magical tolerance, have you been feeling well since the reversal spell?”

“Nuh-uh,” said Esposito. “No changing the subject. What do you mean, ‘for a little while longer’?”

“I plan to retire,” she said flippantly. “My witchy senses tell me that this winter is going to be brutal and I’m too old for the snow.”

“You’re leaving us?” Ryan winced at the overly high pitch of his inquiry. Just because he wasn’t fond of the witch didn’t mean he wanted her to leave. They still needed her. 

“You don’t like me, anyway,” said Bianca with a light-hearted laugh. She kissed Ryan’s cheek and slipped her arm around his back when he colored with shame. He wasn’t her biggest fan but he didn’t want her to _know_ that. 

“That’s not… I don’t…”

“Hush,” she said. “I know you’ve been through one hell of a fortnight, honey. But don’t worry, I’m not leaving until everything is settled here, or until the first blizzard hits, whichever comes first.” She smiled impishly. Neither Ryan nor Esposito were amused. 

“Does Beckett know you’re ‘retiring’?”

“Not yet,” said Bianca. “It’s not a secret, though. You may tell Katherine if I don’t have the opportunity first.” 

“Tell me what?”

Ryan looked up in relief at the sound of Beckett’s voice. She stood in the doorway, hands on her hips and stern expression firmly in place. “Katherine, there you are,” said Bianca mildly, as if she wasn’t getting uncomfortably cozy on the break room couch with the off-limits detectives. She made no move to uncurl her arm from around Ryan or release Esposito’s hand. 

“What brings you to our humble precinct?” asked Castle. 

“Just checking on the boys and your progress on the case,” replied the witch. 

“And how are the boys?” Castle pressed the back of his hand against Ryan’s forehead. The Irishman irritably pulled back, though he didn’t have much room to maneuver with the way Bianca was crowding him. 

“It appears you going to have to keep supplementing Kevin with the _magia firmitas_ until he’s over some of his other ailments and his body can focus on rebuilding his tolerance.” It was kind of strange to hear the witch use his actual name. He’d become accustomed to her penchant for pet names.

“Why?” asked Beckett worriedly. She moved in close to the Irishman as well. He was starting to feel claustrophobic. 

“Ryan got really loopy again,” explained Esposito. The youngest detective squirmed under the quartet of focused stares. 

“Should I take him home?” asked Castle. 

“Did he faint again?”

“You gave him some of the pink stuff?”

“Is this going to keep happening?”

“I’m fine!” Ryan had to raise his voice to be heard over the tandem question assault from Beckett and Castle. “And I don’t faint, Beckett,” he snapped. 

“He’s fine for now,” said Bianca. She finally stood up, giving the younger detectives room to breathe. “Were you successful in tracking down Wayne Jones? I am curious about the progress of your search.”

“Did you finish going through his phone records and bank statements?” Beckett asked her partners. 

“No, we had a visitor,” said Esposito.

“Then we’re not making progress,” said Beckett to Bianca. “Do you have any idea where he might be?”

“I don’t have tracking spells on everyone in the city, dear,” said the witch. 

“Just these two,” said Castle dryly, motioning towards Ryan and Esposito. Well, that probably explained how Bianca knew to show up with her Smarty-flavored syrup. 

“Among others,” she said with no remorse. “I suppose I will let you get back to work.” She gestured toward the door. “I’ll leave this with you, Richard. Kevin will probably need a few ounces every couple of days or so, until his other complications sort themselves out.” Castle nodded seriously and accepted the travel mug. Kevin wanted to protest that he could take care of himself, but figured it wasn’t worth the effort. Being coddled was a lot more fun when the others didn’t actually think he was still a baby. 

“Wait, I thought you had something to tell me,” said Beckett. “And I need to talk to you, too.” She looked worried, which in turn worried the males in the room. Unfortunately, it appeared whatever was bothering Beckett was for girls only, because her concerned partners and boyfriend were shunned from the break room. 

At least this time when Ryan sat down at his desk and brought his computer back to life, the screen didn’t immediately go blurry. He resumed the arduous task of tracking down phone numbers.

xXx

“What’s wrong, Katherine?” asked Bianca. The maternal tone made Beckett briefly think of her late mother. She pushed away the pang of sadness.

“You first,” said the detective stubbornly. She still wasn’t sure if she wanted to confide in the witch and talking about Bianca’s news would buy her more time to make up her mind. 

“It’s really not a big deal,” said the witch. “I simply informed the boys that I plan to retire by the end of the year and seek warmer climes.”

“You can’t leave,” said Beckett before she even finished thinking the words. “I mean… what about the stuff with the Council?”

“It will be sorted out in due time, dear,” said Bianca. “Your partners reacted the same way, you know. It does feel good to be needed.”

“Yeah, well…” Beckett didn’t know what to say to that. “I thought you liked being in everyone’s business.”

“And you all think so highly of me,” said Bianca, followed by a long-suffering sigh.

“Does Randy know?”

“He does,” answered Bianca softly. “I hope to pass the mantle of white witch on to him.”

“He said he was going to return to a life without magic once the boys were back to normal,” said Beckett. 

“He still says that,” said Bianca. “But I have faith that he’ll rise to a higher calling before the end.”

“Should I be putting together a restraining order for him?” asked Beckett sardonically. 

“You fancy yourself a comedian,” said Bianca with a shake of her head. “Now, what is that you needed to speak with me about?”

Feeling strangely unsure of herself, Beckett decided to confide in the older woman. Besides Lanie and Martha, she didn’t have many mature females to seek out. Besides that, she was sure her strange ailment was due to magic. Over the course of the afternoon, she’d become increasingly convinced that Dresden had done something awful to her during their altercation in Riverdale. 

“I think Dresden put a spell on me when we were fighting,” she blurted out. 

“I don’t sense any curse on you,” said the older woman. She pressed her palm to Beckett’s cheek. “What makes you think there is a spell on you?”

“Ever since we got back, I’ve been ill in the morning,” admitted the detective. “Nauseous and all that. It usually goes away by mid-morning, but it’s still strange.”

“You know, there is something different about you,” said Bianca with a knowing smirk. She shifted her hand from Beckett’s face to her flat belly. Beckett’s heart started beating faster in anticipation of Bianca telling her that Dresden had done something horrible to her. She could feel his disgusting hands on her again and a different kind of nausea struck her. “But it wasn’t Dresden who caused it.”

“Davis?”

“You’re much too paranoid, dear,” said Bianca with a laugh. “If you’re worried about your morning sickness, then you should visit your gynecologist. And have a talk with your dashing boyfriend. It’s about time he bought you a ring.” Bianca patted Beckett’s arm and gave her one last warm smile before sweeping out of the break room. Beckett pondered her words for all of three seconds before the realization struck her. She gasped and clasped her hand over her mouth. Immediately she sought out Castle. She could see him through the mini-blinds, arguing with Esposito, no doubt over Ryan. How had this happened?

In the distance, she could hear the phone ringing. A minute later, Captain Gates poked her head into the break room. “Detective Beckett, they found Jones.” When the younger woman didn’t immediately react to the good news, Gates stepped further into the room. “Detective, are you all right? Did that witch do something to you?”

“Huh? No, it’s nothing. Sorry. You said they found Jones?”

“Yes, unis are bringing him in now. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, sir,” said Beckett. She summoned her game face. “Nothing a good old interrogation won’t fix.” Gates didn’t look completely convinced but she let it go in respect for Beckett’s privacy. The detective needed a fix before going head to head with a possible murderer. She was just about to fill the espresso machine with fresh grounds when her mind caught up with her unconscious actions. She couldn’t drink coffee anymore. That sucked, because it sounded really good right now. 

She put her mug away and headed out of the break room. As she crossed the short distance to Ryan’s and Esposito’s desks, the corner of her mouth quirked up in a half smile. Unexpected, but not unwanted. 

“Unis managed to track down Wayne Jones. You two are off the hook,” she informed her partners. 

“Did they find him at the residence of Charlie Kingston?” asked Ryan.

“Why?”

“That’s just where I was going to tell you to look next,” said the Irishman. He held up a stack of papers. The top sheet had a name and address circled in red Sharpie. 

“You can ask them when they get here,” said Beckett. The sound of the elevator doors sliding open drew all of their attention towards the back of the bullpen. Two dour looking uniformed officers escorted a mean-looking Wayne Jones towards Interrogation One. Once he was securely hand-cuffed to the metal table within, Beckett grinned at Castle and her boys. “You two going to watch Mama do her thing?”

“That sounds so wrong,” complained Esposito. Beckett blew a kiss at him. 

“Wait, before you go…” Ryan hailed down one of the officers who’d just escorted Jones into interrogation. “Where’d you guys pick him up?”

“Some dude’s house,” answered the taller man. “Kingston.”

Ryan gave Beckett a pointed look. She laughed and ruffled his spiked hair. “You still have your magic touch, babe.”

Now it was Castle’s turn to complain. “It was one thing to call him ‘babe’ when he was little and cute and actually a baby,” said the writer, trailing after her as she walked towards the impersonal room. “I mean, he is still cute but that’s not the point. He’s thirty-four now and you can’t call him that.”

“Bro, Castle just called you cute,” Esposito informed his partner. 

“So? It’s true,” was Ryan’s barely audible reply. She missed Esposito’s retort as she stepped out of hearing range and into the room where her suspect waited. She took a moment to size up Wayne Jones and decided that she could take him, no problem. Let the games begin.

xXx

“Mr. Jones,” said Beckett. She made a point to keep a hard stare fixed on the man as she took her seat and opened his file in front of herself. Castle slid into the seat next to her, also adopting a stern demeanor. Sometimes it felt like he was playacting when they did interrogations together, or even worse, subverting her role as scary police officer. This time, she knew that his seriousness was genuine. If this man proved to be the one who murdered Serafina Valduerez, that meant he was indirectly responsible for the horrible trial they’d all gone through. He would be the one who’d dragged them into the world of witches and curses in the first place. Castle cared deeply about his friends and now, he was overtly protective of the younger pair of detectives.

Instead of responding, Jones leaned back in his chair and scowled. It wasn’t quite a sneer. Instead, she got the impression that he was testing her, to see if she was adequate to play some role in his scheme to avoid incarceration. _Well, buddy, you’re out of luck_. 

“Do you know why you’re here, Mr. Jones?” she asked. She folded her hands on top of the file and leaned forward slightly. She made sure to hold his gaze, hoping that the persistent staring would make him uncomfortable. 

“Because your donut-loving po-poes dragged me here,” he said disrespectfully. 

“Because you killed Serafina Valduerez.” Beckett put as much conviction into her tone as she could muster, hoping that her confidence would shake his loose and they wouldn’t have to be locked in this humid room any longer than necessary.

“You can’t prove it,” said the suspect smugly. He leaned back and folded his arms over his chest. 

“But we can,” said Castle. “We know that you worked for Greg Hanson and that you coerced the Andersons into fostering Valduerez so she could work your little jewelry theft ring.” 

“So?”

“If you’re not going to deny anything, why don’t you just admit to the murder so we can all move on with our lives,” said Beckett. 

“Yeah, I worked for Hanson. I didn’t have to coerce the Andersons to do nuthin’. They like to cry about taking on the responsibility of the little bitch, but they sure sang like canaries when it was time to go to the bank.”

“Then you did pretend to be Serafina’s social worker,” said Castle.

“That a crime?” he asked flippantly.

“Actually, it is,” said Castle. “Why were you in that alley, Jones? Did you go there with the intention of killing Serafina, or was it just your lucky day that she crossed your path after firing a round of buckshot at your boss?”

“I wasn’t in no alley,” he denied. 

“Are you sure about that? You haven’t been to your apartment in a while, but CSI went through your place and found the sweatshirt and cap you were wearing that morning. They match perfectly with the surveillance camera that caught you fleeing from the exact alley where she was murdered.”

“Don’t you need a warrant to search someone’s place?” he questioned acerbically. 

“Oh, we had one. Plenty of probable cause to link you to Serafina’s murder,” said Beckett. “I’ve never seen a judge deliberate less about signing a search warrant.”

“Good for you,” said Jones with a sneer. 

“The only thing I can’t quite put together is why you killed her,” said Beckett. “You see, I’ve had my fair share of encounters with witches since you cut down that little girl and I’ve learned a few tricks. For example, I can tell that you’re not magically gifted. So why are you hanging around such dangerous people?”

“It pays good and living in New York ain’t cheap,” he said dismissively. She didn’t miss the flash of unease that passed over his face at the reminder of how treacherous the witches could be. 

“How much did Hanson pay you to kill Valduerez after she tried to off him, first?”

“I didn’t kill her,” said Jones. He stared challengingly at the detective. 

“You’re lying,” accused the detective. “But if you won’t tell me the truth, maybe you’d like to try again with some of your old colleagues. Ms. Kennedy made it clear that she’s interesting in talking to you.” Jones paled slightly at that. Beckett revisited her earlier impression that Jones was sizing her up. She wondered if he thought he had a better chance with the cops than the witches. “She’s happy enough for now, having Saul Davis locked up in her dungeon for aiding the necromancer. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind having another guest, guilty of equally disgusting crimes.” Beckett kept her voice low and for Jones’ ears only. Throughout her statement, she kept her eyes locked on his.

“What do you think the witches are going to do to Davis?” asked Castle, playing along with her.

“I’m not familiar with the dark arts of the magical community,” said Beckett. “I work for a system that has rules and protocols in place to make sure people’s civil rights aren’t violated.”

“You aren’t going to trick me into telling you anything,” said Jones with much less bravado than he’d mustered before.

“I’m not playing any tricks,” said Beckett. “Ms. Kennedy has a personal grudge against you, Mr. Jones. Did you know that your meddling with the Bellefontes very much led to her husband’s death?”

“It ain’t my fault that guy is a crazy,” he said. He shifted uncomfortably in his metal chair. 

“No, but you pestered them to the point that Nora Bellefonte felt the need to try to cast her retrogression spell again, which ultimately caused her stroke and allowed Winston Kennedy to get close enough to poison her. That’s what drove her son over the edge.” Beckett made sure to lean forward, trying to capitalize on Jones’ increasingly nervous countenance. 

“Of course, Bellefonte was a witch, and the witchy Council dealt with her. Does the Council deal with non-witches the same way they deal with their own?” asked Castle. 

“Let me know if you find out.” The suspect’s concentration was now split between the large mirror behind Castle and Beckett and the door to the bullpen. 

“They can’t touch you while you’re in custody of the police,” said Beckett. Of course, that hadn’t exactly helped the Bellefonte matriarch, but it seemed to be keeping her older son alive for now. Rayford’s list of known crimes was a bit longer than Jones’ at the moment. “All you have to do is admit to killing Valduerez and then you’ll be escorted to the safety of prison to await your arraignment.”

“You don’t know the witches,” said Jones. He actually sounded a little scared right now. “Your flimsy little jail won’t stop them if they want something.”

“I _do_ know the witches,” corrected the detective. “Rayford Bellefonte and Greg Hanson are both in police custody right now and no one has touched them yet. We’ve already put you at the scene of the crime and once we get a ballistics match to the gun in your truck from the bullet that killed Serafina, your fate will be sealed. Why take your chances with the witches in the meantime?”

“That little bitch deserved to die,” said Jones. “She thought we all owed her something, since she’d ruined her own body with drugs. It was always about her. She didn’t get a big enough cut from the heists. She didn’t get to spend enough time with her stupid ‘aunt’. Her mean ex-husband wouldn’t take her back because she was a washed-up ho.” His whiney falsetto grated on Beckett’s eardrums. “Trying to kill Hanson after all he’d done for her? That was the last straw.”

“Did you kill her, Mr. Jones?” asked Beckett clearly. 

“I put her down like the dog she was,” he said hatefully. 

“Thank you,” said Beckett. She pulled out a blank sheet of paper and slid it across the table, along with a ballpoint pen. “I’ll need you to put that in writing, of course.”

Jones almost looked relieved to be facing prison instead of the judgmental wrath of the witches. He wasn’t remorseful for what he’d done, still thinking that Valduerez deserved to die, but being at the mercy of a fair judicial system was better than looking over his shoulder for the rest of his no-doubt short life. The jury was still out on whether Valduerez was a very nice person herself, but no one ought to be murdered in an alley on their way to grade school. 

While Jones worked on writing out his role in the murder, Beckett leaned back in her chair and pondered Davis’ fate. In Riverdale, Kennedy and her associates had disposed of Dresden’s body and taken the assistant into custody. That left Bianca and Randy free to deal with the retrogression curse. Beckett hadn’t seen the cane-wielding witch again. She figured that she would have to butt into the Council’s affairs once more to extract Davis from their clutches. He had had a change of heart in the end, helping Castle free Randy from the dying remains of his GTO. He didn’t resist his peers when they apprehended him, as if he regretted his role in the kidnapping and subsequent conflicts with Beckett. She didn’t doubt that Dresden had likely forced the other witch to assist him. Unfortunately, that didn’t absolve him from his guilt, but she hoped the witches took all of that into account and there was something left of him to prosecute when she got her turn. 

Jones was virtually done scribbling out his concise confession when Castle cleared his throat. “Even though you knew Valduerez wasn’t really a child, how could you stand there and shoot her, point blank, in the chest? She had a Hello Kitty backpack, for Pete’s sake.”

“I’m not handicapped by sentimentality,” said Jones dismissively. 

Beckett knew that Castle was thinking of their own boys, and how despite knowing that they were full-grown detectives on the inside, they still looked and acted liked precious little children. They had both struggled to see beyond the boys’ physical sizes on occasion. She couldn’t imagine looking into a pair of terrified blue or chocolate-colored eyes and pulling the trigger of a large caliber gun. 

Beckett had to remind herself that Ryan and Esposito’s curse was different than Valduerez’. She’d been an adult in all but form. Bellefonte had sought to tamper with the boys’ emotions and maturity in addition to their bodies, leaving only their logical adult minds intact. Beckett wondered if looking into the eight-year-old’s eyes would have been the same as looking into the forty-eight-year-old’s. It had been different with her partners. 

The detective tapped on Castle’s shoulder to signal that it was time to leave. He was on the verge of getting worked up over how callous Jones was about murdering the child. She didn’t want to deal with the sick reality of how some people treated innocent babes right now. She just wanted to curl up with her boyfriend and be glad it was finally over. 

Because it was finally over.

xXx

It had taken a couple of hours to finish the immediately pressing paperwork dealing with Jones’ charges and confessions. After that, the boys had demurely helped her clear the murder board, carefully packing away all of the evidence and notes to be used during Jones’ trial. Neither junior detective had wanted to touch the photographs of Valduerez’s unnatural juvenile body, so it was left to Castle to clear the middle of the board. Once the last smudge of dry erase marker was wiped away, Beckett had taken a moment to join her little family in staring at the pristine white board.

“It kind of makes it seem like the last three weeks never happened.” She had leaned against Esposito’s shoulder, something she had done plenty of times before. 

“No, it doesn’t,” argued Ryan. Bianca’s magical pick-me-up hadn’t worn off yet, but his other medications were an hour overdue. The strain of the multiple changes of age showed on his face and in his posture. Noticing the same symptoms as his girlfriend, Castle had suggested they go home. 

And that’s what changed Beckett’s view of the fantastical memories she’d made. They weren’t akin to a bad dream. They were merely curious in nature, but worth holding on to. Because in that moment, “home” meant the same place to all of them.

Now, the group was gathered in Castle’s loft, celebrating another successful case. The writer broke out a bottle of champagne, but only he, Esposito, and Martha ended up with flutes. Ryan unhappily nursed yet another bottle of purple Gatorade and Beckett shyly declined her own glass, claiming to be just plain thirsty and wanting water. 

“Well,” said Martha, clapping her hands on her thighs. “This has certainly been exciting.”

“I’m just glad it’s over,” said Esposito. 

“Me too,” echoed Ryan. 

Castle wrapped an arm around the younger male’s shoulders. “There’s only one mystery left to solve, my boy.”

“No more mysteries,” complained the Irishman. 

“Doesn’t it bother you to be the only one who doesn’t know the identity of Esposito’s secret crush?”

“We are so not getting into this right now,” said the Hispanic detective. He groaned and slouched down in his chair. 

“You figured it out?” asked Ryan skeptically, making only enough effort to lift his chin so he could compare the veracity of Castle’s claim to his expression. 

“Of course.”

“Only about a week after I did,” said Beckett smugly. 

“Alexis and I had you pegged for months,” said Martha, topping the detective’s claim. Esposito’s glare for Beckett morphed into an expression of embarrassment at the actor’s claim. 

“Mrs. R…”

“Oh, don’t be bashful,” she scolded. “A blind man could have seen it.” 

“Hey,” said Castle, looking mildly offended. 

“You all need to get lives if you think this supposed ‘mystery’ is worth wasting another second on,” said Esposito. 

“Don’t you want to know if your one true loves feels the same?”

“He doesn’t,” snapped Esposito without thinking. Beckett hid her smirk behind her water glass while Castle grinned manically. Ryan’s brow furrowed. 

“He?”

“He, she, whatever. You’re making me tongue-tied with all of this ridiculousness,” deflected Esposito. 

“Esposito meant ‘he’,” clarified Castle helpfully. 

“Shut up, ass-- Shut up, jerk,” snapped Esposito, changing his vocabulary with a furtive glance at Martha and then Castle. 

“I thought your secret crush was a ‘cute little blonde’,” said Ryan. He looked over at Beckett for confirmation. 

“When you figure it out, sweetie, remember those were Lanie’s words, not mine.” Beckett grinned impishly at her confused partner.

“But there aren’t any cute blonde guys at the precinct,” said Ryan. He was usually pretty quick on the uptake. Beckett blamed his struggle to connect the dots on the cocktail of prescription medications that Castle had plied him with just before they all got comfortable.

“Why, have you been checking the boys out?” asked Castle. His grin looked about to split his face and he wiggled his eyebrows up and down at Esposito. The Hispanic detective looked ready to initiate a new murder case. This one wouldn’t be much of a mystery, though. 

Ryan was preoccupied with sorting through his mental dossier of the precinct and failed to notice the silent death glare match going on above his head. 

“Oh, for goodness sake,” said Martha impatiently. “Males.” She pushed herself off the couch and marched over to the magazine stand tucked in the corner of the room. She retrieved a well-read issue from near the top of the stack and returned to the group. She bopped Ryan on the head with the rolled up rag before opening it to a certain page and dropping it in the Irishman’s lap.

“I don’t…” He trailed off helplessly, looking to Castle for an explanation. 

“I got hung up on this, too,” said the writer encouragingly. “Look.” He pointed to the first row of darkly colored squares. “Shades of brown.” He dragged his finger down to the next line. “Shades of red.” He skipped to the bottom row. “Shades of blonde.”

“Oh.” 

Beckett couldn’t actually hear the softly spoken syllable, but it was easy to see his lips form around the word. Esposito looked torn between bolting and staying put to see how Ryan would react to the realization that had just dawned on him.

“But…” He trailed off, clearly unable to believe what he’d finally figured out for himself. 

The always helpful Castle said, “For whom else would Javi make the choice to stay little? For whom _did_ he make the choice?”

“Me,” said Ryan quietly. He smiled hesitantly at Javier, who barely grimaced in return. 

“Good boy,” said Castle, tightening his arm around the Irishman’s shoulders briefly. He then pulled away completely and rocked his weight forward to propel himself to his feet. “I think I’m ready to hit the hay,” he announced. “If you two decide to stay up and talk about mushy things, make sure to turn off all of the lights when you go to bed.” He directed that at Esposito, and earned a dark look for his troubles. 

Beckett rose and set her empty glass on the coaster next to her seat. Castle held out his hand to her and she intertwined her fingers with his. They walked silently through the writer’s office to the master bedroom, each briefly lost in their thoughts. They went through their nightly routines companionably and then curled up together on the silky sheets. 

Beckett stared in to the eyes of Lyoness as she tried to think of the best way to break her big news to her lover. Castle fit his body against her back and she nearly melted into the warmth of his embrace. “You okay?” he asked softly, his minty breath ghosting over her cheek. 

“Yeah,” she said honestly. “Really good.”

“I’m glad.” He dipped his chin to kiss her bare shoulder, unprotected by the shear nightie she wore. “I love happy endings. A bunch of bad guys are in jail, Kevin’s going to slowly but surely get better with Esposito to take care of his every need, Bianca can focus her devious schemes on Randy instead of us, and you’re here with me.”

“Castle?”

“Yes, my love?”

“This isn’t an ending. It’s just the beginning.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m pregnant.”

xXx

**THE END**

xXx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, TXMedic, for doing such a great job beta-reading.  
> Thank you Lezzles for the wonderful cover art!
> 
> Well, this is it. I hope you've all enjoyed the ride as much as I have. If you haven't had the chance yet, please let me know what you thought of the story. I love all kinds of feedback, including constructive criticism.
> 
> I'm planning an alternate ending to this story, for those who wish Ryan and Esposito could have stayed small a little longer. So, look forward to that. :)


	68. Bonus Preview

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short scene from the alternate ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

Warning: Spoilers for the alternate ending.

**_February 26, 2014_ **

Castle yawned as he waited for the taxi he’d called for to arrive. The dispatch had told him to be on the lookout for the yellow sedan, so he waited outside in the crisp, moonless night for his ride. He shook his head briefly to dislodge the snowflake that landed on his nose – a thick wet clump that only served to remind him that this never ending winter was still going in full force, even late in February. What was six more inches of snow? They were already buried under six feet of it. 

To protect his nose from further frosty attacks, he nuzzled his older son’s soft, warm cheek. Javier didn’t react to the affection. He’d been out cold since at least fifteen minutes before Kate had pointed at the clock and ordered him to go home and sleep. Castle was loathe to leave his fiancée and his precious new baby girl alone at the hospital, but Kate assured him that all she was going to do was sleep off the long labor. Not only that, but Johanna Joy was safely tucked up in the nursery, recovering from her own early, exciting entrance into the world. 

Castle shifted his weight from one foot to the other in order to keep the blood circulating to his toes. He probably could have waited just inside the glass sliding doors of the hospital, but by this late in the season they were accustomed to the cold and honestly, he kind of liked it. He didn’t have to worry that Javier would get chilled. He was bundled up to the point of near immobility in his thick ski jacket, knit cap with ear flaps and a large pom on top, fur lined mittens and matching boots. 

The seven-year-old’s arms around Castle’s neck were better than any scarf and his warm body held securely in his Daddy’s arms was better than a warm wool trench coat. Not that Castle wasn’t wearing said warm wool trench coat and stylish red scarf. No, it was just his black dress shoes that were making him question the clerk’s claim that they were water-resistant. 

As he stood in the softly falling snow, waiting for a cab to arrive to take him and his son back to the warm loft, reveling in the thrill of his newest baby, an unbidden wave of melancholy washed over him. He sighed and tucked his cold nose up against Javier’s warm cheek again. Flashes of Alexis’ all too brief childhood flashed through his mind and he knew that Javier and Kevin would grow up too quickly, as well. And growing they were. He could already feel the difference nine months had made in the boy he held. Memories, fainter now that new ones had crowded in, of Javier’s brief week at eleven years old, reminded him that he soon wouldn’t be able to carry the boy like this. He didn’t have all that many chances as it was. Javier was too “grown up” and “manly” to be carried like a baby. 

Except for at two in the morning, outside a hospital, in the snow, on the night of his baby sister’s birth. 

Castle pondered calling Bianca, drawing her away from the disabled Randy’s side, and asking her to manipulate the spell that had reduced his one-time friends into children and made them his sons. _Make them stay this size forever_ , Castle thought to himself. Threats of tantrums and then actual tantrums in the middle of the delivery room aside, Castle rarely felt the same stomach-clenching love that he felt when watery brown eyes peered up at him beseechingly and the child’s high pitched voice begged to be allowed to stay with his daddy. 

His boys weren’t stupid and they’d quickly learned to turn his clever ploy back on him. He’d started out on a mission to teach the ex-detectives to trust him and reciprocate his paternal feelings. Now, they used “Daddy” as an surefire way to get whatever they wanted. Castle shouldn’t be surprised. Alexis had had him wrapped around her tiny little finger, too. 

The cab finally pulled up in front of him. Like each one before it, this moment was over too soon and Castle didn’t know when he’d find this mixture of joy, dread, and hope again. He resolved to enjoy the similar moments as much as he could. It helped that Javier, unwilling to fully wake up, even from being jostled as Castle slid into the back seat of the yellow sedan, curled into the older man and slipped back into a deep sleep with a soft sigh. Castle gave the driver his address and then settled back in the cushioned seat and turned to watch the snow continue to fall silently outside.

**_Finis_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look forward to the alternate ending to _The Spellbound Affair_.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this far. I hope you’re enjoying yourself. Please let me know how you like the story. I write for fun but I always want to improve, so constructive criticism is always welcome. All mistakes are my own.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Spellbound Cover Art](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1048044) by [Firestar385](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firestar385/pseuds/Firestar385), [Lezzles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lezzles/pseuds/Lezzles)




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